Over Hill, Over Dale
by x.Anaphora.x
Summary: Gry has heard the stories of Erebor and Dale since she was a child, so when she finds Thorin Oakenshield in the Prancing Pony she feels compelled to accompany him on his quest. How will the adventure change with her tagging along? Is Gry ready for the danger and romance that is in store for her? And why is her family so interested in the Lonely Mountain and Smaug? (Kili/OC)
1. A Hush Fell Over the Crowd

**(Prologue) A Hush Fell Over the Crowd**

**Author's Note:: **_So, I've decided to funnel my newfound love for the Hobbit into this story. I haven't written fan fiction for a story so complete as _the Hobbit_ before, so we'll see where this takes us! Anyway, this is based on the movie world, largely because it's more recent in my mind, and I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"_**People take on the shapes of the songs and the stories that surround them, especially if they don't have their own song.**"_ (Neil Gaiman_, Anansi Boys_)

The man stood quietly in the center of the room, listening to the sounds of the house. There was nothing but the quiet creaking of a house at night and a faint whistle of wind from outside. Slowly he placed one foot in front of the other, careful to keep his steps quiet as he moved to the small hallway, his eyes still searching and ears straining for any sound. There had been nothing in the kitchen. Nothing in the sitting room. That left only the two bedrooms. He stood in front of the door to the larger of the two bedrooms, and slowly pushed the door open carefully, quietly. His eyes did a precursory scan of the bedroom. The sheets lay flat against the bed, tucked in neatly. The bed skirt remained un-rustled. Everything was normal there. He moved his eyes from the bed to the window, his eyes squinting a little at the unexpected sight. The drapes were pulled closed. Quickly, he crossed the room and threw the drapes open, revealing nothing but the moon. He froze for a moment, staring at the moon as the light shone around him, faintly illuminating the room with its pale light. Quietly, he turned back around and rested another moment, absolutely alert. The wind blew outside the window again, slightly shaking the frame, and he moved away, back towards the door. That's when he heard it. It could only be from one place. As swiftly as possible, he moved around the edge of the bed and grabbed a pair of legs, sliding a wriggling girl out from underneath. She shrieked as he took up the small girl, no more than six or seven years old, into his arms

"You found me!" she smiled, peering into her father's face. Her large brown eyes wide and filled with mirth.

"You may get away with your trick next time should you not giggle." He tapped her nose causing her to giggle again. "But now that I found you, it's time."

"Now?" she questioned. It was meant to be a protest, but in the middle of the word a yawn overtook her, proving his point.

"You know the deal," he said. "When you get better at hiding, you'll be able to stay up later." He walked out of his bedroom and into the hallway where his wife waited. She stretched out her arms, receiving the little girl as he walked into his daughter's room. He pulled the covers down so that his wife could place the child directly onto the bed, and after seeing his daughter gently laid on the mattress, he helped his wife pull the covers back up, tucking their daughter in.

"Goodnight, dearest." His wife said, leaning over and kissing the girl's forehead. "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Mom." The girl returned, as her mother moved away from the bed.

"Are we ready for the story, then?" the father asked, sitting down on the side of his daughter's bed.

"Can you sing a song instead?" she asked looking back up at him. Her long brown hair, fanned out like a halo around her head.

"If that is your wish." He answered, looking up at his wife who stood against the door, smiling her soft smile and waiting for him. "Which one?"

"I'll start." She said, her soft voice echoing through the room before he ultimately joined in.

….

_In the shadow of the Lonely Mountain_

_Lies a city destroyed by fire_

_Once prosperous, it now waits forgotten_

_For those of us who still conspire_

….

_Our ancestors and their dwarven friends_

_Of the city and mountain behind_

_Once close bonds formed over trade and gems_

_And thus their fates intertwined_

….

_But the treasures of the King had great allure_

_Its grandeur known in distant lands_

_It reached his ears and there was no cure_

_His desire took over; he made plans. _

….

_Then came the day the sky turned red_

_As the beast arrived with raging flame _

_Faces paled and hearts filled with dread_

_For they knew what he came to claim_

….

_The men all fought quite valiantly_

_To defend the city and mountain, too_

_But he was too much and his brutality_

_Left many dead, and all hope fell through_

….

_The mountain fell soon without our aid_

_Both homes destroyed, the survivors fled_

_We failed our friends, they were unmade_

_And now there's naught to be done or said_

….

_Should we have the chance we must atone_

_For our failures great and their unending pain_

_We shall our sorrow and loyalty make known_

_The King Under the Mountain again must reign_

….

There was a moment of silence after they finished the song.

"Is he still there in the mountain?" the small girl asked quietly her large eyes peering up at her father. "Smaug."

"You know he is." Her father answered tightly.

"I'm sorry. I forgot." She apologized innocently.

"You must never forget." Her father said softly, his face softening as he pulled the covers up a little more. "You must never forget your home or your kin who were lost. It is what defines us and presses us forward."

"I won't forget anymore." The little girl said with a yawn as her father bent over to kiss her forehead goodnight. "I promise."

He smiled at her, "I love you, Gry."

"I love you too, Dad." She mumbled back, her eyes closing as she drifted off to sleep about the city in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain.

**- 19 Years Later **-

There were many women in Bree who were cursed to labor at jobs that they despised. The seamstresses continuously pricked their fingers throughout the day, the scullery maids' fingers were always pruned from scouring the floors and pans all day long, and the housewives had to continuously lock their fingers in prayer so that they did not go crazy from caring for incessantly screaming children from sunrise to sunset. Gry thanked her lucky stars every day that she did not hold one of these jobs, and that while many women were off doing the less desirable, yet essential, jobs, she was able to work at the Inn of the Prancing Pony every night and listen to the stories of seasoned travellers.

Of course, listening to stories wasn't listed as one of her official duties as a barmaid/waitress, but she had managed to convince her boss that having a willing ear to listen to tales, not only convinced patrons to stay longer to tell their stories and thus order more beer over the length of time, but it gave them a place to come back to after each journey where they could share hyperbolic versions of their exploits. While the argument had started out as mere conjecture, it had soon proved itself to be true, and thus Gry was never yelled at when she chose to sit down at a table and listen to some stories for half an hour or so. Yes, Gry had certainly lucked out when it came to her work, and as the seasons passed, she always spoke fondly of her time there. But, like all good things, her time at the Prancing Pony came to an end, and all because of a lone dwarf that wandered in and sat himself in front of the fireplace one rainy night.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts:: **_I'll admit that the song was not my finest composition, but I loved the idea of a little girl singing along with her father since she'd heard the song so many times. It reminds me of the cute cover video of: "Tonight You Belong to Me." Except, this is about a terrible tragedy. So, leave a review, and let me know what you think!_


	2. Winning Over the King

**(Chapter 1) Winning Over the King**

**Author's Note:: **_Not much to say. I just hope you enjoy and would love it if you left a review (:__  
_

* * *

"_**Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful. Good words are not persuasive; persuasive words are not good.**_" {Lao Tzu}

Gry leaned against the bar, sliding the empty mug across. "To the brim." She smiled as the bartender filled up the mug. Gry looked across the bustling bar. The room was filled with lively chatter and laughter, and a few of the hobbits were singing their favorite drinking songs. Gry smiled and hummed along, taking the full mug off of the counter and bringing it to the man sitting hunched over in the corner smoking his pipe and staring at something behind her.

"Anything else for you, sir?" she asked placing it down.

"That will be all, thank you," He said, his eyes darting around her trying to get a better view around her. Gry nodded and curtseyed, moving to walk back to the bar, her eyes shifting to try to catch a glimpse of what the man was staring at. A dwarf sat by the fireplace, his weapon leaned up against the table next to him as he smoked his pipe, staring off into space. He had long curly black hair that seemed as if it was starting to grey, and his expression was emotionless. Gry took a step towards him, effectively dodging a stumbling drunk and moving closer to him to try to get a better look. Suddenly his head turned in the other direction, and Gry watched as Ellen set down his drink and a plate of food before him. There was a brief exchange as the waitress walked off towards Gry.

"Who's that?" Gry asked grabbing Ellen's arm.

"Goodness, Gry! You gave me a fright!" Ellen exclaimed, freeing her arm and catching her breath.

"Sorry." Gry grinned. "But come on, who _is_ he?" She peered over Ellen's shoulder in an attempt to get a better look at him. "It's not very often we get a dwarf at the Inn."

"Well, I don't very well know who he is. It's not my job to ask, and I'm not like _you_," Ellen said pointedly. "He's probably some merchant from the Blue Mountains."

"Well of course he's from the Blue Mountains," Gry said, coming off of her tip-toes to look at Ellen. "But I don't think he's a merchant. He looks too brooding. He must have excellent stories."

"You and your stories." Ellen rolled her eyes, deciding that she was tired of the conversation and Gry, as she moved to the bar.

"Ellen," Gry said, following her back to the bar. "Stories are—"

"Important," Ellen finished for Gry. "You've said before." She picked up two flagons and moved to a table of two old men. Gry followed Ellen with her eyes, briefly before turning her attention back to the dwarf. A tall man wearing a grey cloak that coordinated nicely with his long grey hair sat down opposite of the dwarf. She'd seen him before. The man reached out touching Ellen's arm as she was on her way back, and she paused before nodding and coming back towards the bar.

"And who's that?" Gry asked.

"Don't you have customers to see to instead of interrogating me?" Ellen asked, placing her order at the bar, turning her back to Gry.

"Perhaps, but interrogating you always brings me so much joy," Gry answered, and Ellen offered a small smile, but Gry couldn't see.

"It's Gandalf," She said over her shoulder.

"Gandalf? The Grey?"

"Is there another?" Ellen asked.

"What's Gandalf the Grey doing here with a dwarf?" Gry asked, straining to look and attempting to read lips (a skill she had never been good at). "It must be important business."

"Well it's none of ours," Ellen reminded her as she picked up a mug and plate and brought them over to Gandalf.

"I know," Gry mumbled. Still, she was intrigued and excited. She had seen Gandalf a couple of times in the Prancing Pony, but never had he stayed for long. This was her one chance to convince him to tell her his stories. A few of the hobbits spoke admiringly of him and even more spoke admiringly of his fireworks.

"Instead of just watching it die, why don't you go and stoke the fire?" her boss called from behind the bar.

"Yes, of course," Gry said, shaking her head to break herself free from her thoughts before walking over to poke the fire back to life. Even with her back turned to them and the sound of the crowd, she was close enough to catch bits of their conversation. Gry stood there, absentmindedly bringing the fire to new heights as she listened in.

"This is no chance meeting is it, Gandalf?"

"No, it is not. The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin. The dragon has had long enough—" She lost the rest of the speech as her focus shifted from listening in on the conversation and onto her own thoughts. That name. It couldn't be. She turned, looking over her shoulder at the dwarf and taking him in in light of this new information. His large furs suddenly looked much more regal and his brooding manner made much more sense. But still, it couldn't be Not him. Not here. Could it? Gry left the fire to move back to the bar, walking close enough to the table that she didn't have to listen so intently to conversation to be able to catch what they were saying.

"Someone wants you dead. Thorin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin." It _was _him.

"The King under the Mountain." Gry did not realize that the title had left her thoughts or how close she was to the table or how keen dwarves ears were until the dwarf slowly turned around, his piercing blue eyes fixated on hers. His other hand moved slightly over to his weapon, but she did not notice the gesture. Instead, she was captured in his gaze, frozen and staring unashamedly and unafraid back at him. For all of her other faults (or maybe this was one of them) Gry was not afraid of eye contact even when she should have been.

"I do not believe we have met," He said slowly, his suspicion clear.

"No," she shook her head once. "No, I have not yet had the pleasure. I know you only through the tales my father told me when I was a child." She was still shocked that he was there. "Forgive me for staring, but I never dreamed of being so near those in my father's tales. I was aware that Mr. Gandalf frequented here due to his trips to the Shire, but I honestly never thought—" she stopped talking, trailing off in thought. If Ellen had been there she would have been absolutely shocked herself. Of course, her shock would come from the fact that for once in her life, Gry was at a loss for words.

Gandalf gave her a good-humored smile. "Yes, well, it is a bit of a chance meeting for ourselves." Thorin turned his gaze from Gry and shot Gandalf a questioning look. The lie snapped Gry out of her star-struck haze.

"Oh, I must seem a fool. Please excuse my poor manners. I apologize for intruding." Gry quickly curtseyed before turning to leave.

"Ahh, Miss—" The wizard called after her. Gry turned around, her heart pounding.

"Gry," She answered curtseying.

"Gry?" The wizard lifted a single eyebrow as he questioned her name. She was looked to the look and the comment that was sure to follow. "An unusual name for a woman of Bree."

"My father is not of Bree," She clarified. "He and his father came here from Lake-Town, looking for a new start." This was a gross oversimplification, but what did Gandalf the Grey care about her family? Of what importance was the century long struggle to avenge and rebuild their lost home and atone for their ancestors' mistakes and the taunts these desires provoked? What did he need to know of their losses and misery when he was sure to have experienced much more of it in his lifetime? "Thus Gry, daughter of Gerd, son of Júren."

"Well, Miss Gry, perhaps with your knowledge of the stories of yore, you can give us some insight—"

"This is of no concern to a Man." Thorin shut down the idea quickly.

"But it could be!" Gandalf argued back. "You forget that there were many Men who lost their lives that day, Thorin Oakenshield. It is time to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain! Unite the armies of the dwarves, together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven dwarf families, demand they stand by their oath."

"The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's jewel, the Arkenstone. It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug."

"What if I were to help you reclaim it?"

"How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire breathing dragon." Thorin pointed out.

"But is it not worth the risk?" Gry put in for the first time. In the heat of the argument the men had forgotten that she was there, but now both sets of eyes were fixed firmly on her. "You have here a chance to reclaim what was lost: your home, your gold. This opportunity does not come to many."

"You are but a child," Thorin said, derisively. "What do you know of risk and of loss?"

"Do not think you are the only one acquainted with loss and sorrow," Gry answered, firmly. "And I am well aware of the desolation Smaug brings wherever his shadow touches. I know of the risks that come with this quest, and I am prepared to face them."

"A Man has no place on this quest." His voice was cold, but Gry remained standing there, equally stubborn.

"Do not be a fool, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandolf admonished. "You will need all the help you can get to reclaim the Arkenstone." Gry rethought her methods.

"I know you do not want me on this quest and in your eyes I would have no place standing next to you. I seek nothing from this quest, no share of gold, no favors, but to help you destroy Smaug for what he has done." Thorin opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Gry quickly continued. "And if I prove to be too much of a burden, you may send me home at any point. Just know that I am a decent cook, I can sew well, I am knowledgeable of medical care, and I can hold my own in a fight."

"You can fight?" Thorin asked giving her a skeptical look.

"My father was a blacksmith, and he taught me how to fight with the swords he made," Gry answered. "He wanted me to be prepared for whatever might come."

"A blacksmith taught his daughter to fight in a time of peace?" Thorin looked at her closely.

"Yes," Gry answered simply.

"Are you prepared to prove it?" Thorin asked, challenging.

"It is of little consequence whether or not I am able to prove it," Gry replied, refusing to back down. "For should I prove that I am a capable swordsmen, it would still not gain your trust, and if by some stroke of fate I were to become injured or give you reason to question my capability, it would only go to show what is perhaps the most valuable trait I have to offer: that I am one more body, one more life to put between yours and each peril that you will face on this journey, and sometimes one body is all you need to buy enough time to survive."

Gandalf was smiling. "She makes a fair point, you know." Thorin turned, glaring at the old wizard. "Perhaps we should add persuasion to her list of beneficial qualities. Having someone as charming and eloquent as Miss Gry may prove to be most helpful." He looked at Throin with raised eyebrows, as if daring him to disagree.

"Very well," Thorin said tight-lipped. "The barmaid may come."

"Excellent." Gandalf looked very pleased with himself. "In addition to Miss Gry's exceptional persuasive skills, we will also need a burglar if we wish to retrieve the Arkenstone from beneath Smaug's feet, and I have just the hobbit in mind."

"A hobbit?" Thorin asked. "Is a Man not enough?"

"I have had quite enough of your single-mindedness, Thorin. Bilbo Baggins will make an excellent burglar. He has Took blood in him," Gandalf reproved. "Still, perhaps it would be best if we were all to meet before we set off on this quest. Gather your kin as quickly as possible and meet at the hobbit's home at nightfall in two weeks' time."

"And how will I know where this hobbit lives?" Thorin asked.

"Oh, it should be quite easy to find. I will mark it," Gandalf dismissed.

"Well, I'd best make preparations," Thorin said getting up and giving a nod in goodbye to Gandalf, ignoring Gry who still remained by the table, unsure as to what to do with herself.

"He will come around with time," Gandalf said picking up his pipe and taking a puff out of it.

"Yes, I hope so," Gry said absentmindedly watching Thorin leave.

"You are a curious woman, Miss Gry," Gandalf remarked. Gry was about to respond when he continued his thought. "I do not know many grocers' daughters who are persuasive enough to convince a dwarf as stubborn as Thorin Oakenshield to change his mind." He took a look at her shocked face and winked. "Do not worry; it shall be our secret."

"How did you know? Was it…?"

"This is not the first time we have met." Gandalf answered. "I am not surprised that you do not remember me, for you were just a small child at the time."

"But how do you remember me?"

"Gry is an unusual name for a woman of Bree." He answered with a twinkle in his eye. "I knew your father a long ago."

"How?" Gry asked.

"I had heard of his interest in the dragon and the Mountain. Years ago I sought him out to speak about it."

"So you know." Gry looked away into the fire.

"I believe it is fitting for his daughter to accomplish that which he could not."

"I just hope that I can." Gry answered, quietly watching the flames that leap up.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts:: **_I realize that not a lot happened, but next chapter we will be in Hobbiton AND it will be much longer AND Gry will get to meet Kili._


	3. Overstaying the Welcome

**(Chapter 2) Overstaying the Welcome **

**Author's Note:: **_Sorry it took me a little bit to get this up. Anyway, I did a little tweaking to last chapter. I would highly recommend going back and reading the end again past "The barmaid may come." Also, I just watched all 9 hours of _An Unexpected Journey's _special features, and I'm just feel so much love for Kíli & Fíli. And Dwalin. Anyway, here they all are!_

* * *

"_**Home is the place we love best and grumble the most**_." {Billy Sunday}

Gry walked out of the door to the Green Dragon Inn just as the sun was about to set. The walk over to Hobbiton was not far, nor was it a particularly cold evening, so as Gry walked with her forest green cloak draped over her shoulders and basket filled with some food and wine on her arms, she found it quite pleasant and walked a little bit slower than perhaps she should have if she wanted to get to the door at just the right amount of times. She couldn't believe that she had quit her job at the Prancing Pony. It had been exhilarating and entirely nerve-wracking at the same time because, as the innkeeper so nicely reminded her, the job may not be there waiting for her if she came back. If. There was something entirely thrilling and horrifying in that one word. She had been careful to keep "if" out of the conversation when she had spoken to her mother about her desire to go on a quest with Gandalf the Grey, and instead and assured her that _when_ she came back, it would be to stay. She just needed to give this a shot. Her mother had pulled Gry into her arms and held her for a moment before whispering the only words Gry needed to hear to ease her fears: _He would be so proud of you._

Gry had crossed into Hobbiton and looked out at all of the different hobbit holes that populated the hilly area. Easy to find. Yeah, right. The light was gone at this point, so finding the mark would be difficult, but there was no turning back now. Gry wandered up and down, looking at the doors, before seeing one up ahead that seemed to have a faintly glowing spot on it. Gry let herself in the gate and walked up to the door, an unfamiliar rune glowing from it just as Gandalf had promised. Gry adjusted the basket, balancing it between her arm and her hip as she turned to pull the doorbell. There were a few seconds as Gry waited for something, anything to happen. The sound of shouting behind the door grew louder and louder before the door was wrenched open and a hobbit with curly brown hair, wrapped in a robe stood before her.

"Thank heavens it's not another dwarf." He exhaled, but he still did not look entirely thrilled with her presence. Of course, Gry failed to notice any of the hobbit's emotions, her own excitement preoccupying her.

"Are they all here? Am I late?" Gry asked.

"Late for—Are who all here?" He looked extremely confused and hassled, but Gry did not notice as she was peering over his shoulders, attempting to see the dwarves.

"The dwarves. How many are there?"

"There's two—I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Two? I imagined there'd be more. The others must be late as well." Gry said, turning her attention back to the hobbit. "And I apologize for my rudeness. My name is Gry. It's a pleasure to meet you." She answered brightly, curtseying.

"Yes. A pleasure." He nodded, absentmindedly, or perhaps rather, preoccupied.

"Wonderful." Gry moved the basket from her hip as she moved into the house, completely oblivious to Bilbo's attempts to stop her. "I brought some wine, a couple loafs of bread, and a block of cheese, just what we could spare." Bilbo shut the door behind her. "Is there a place I should put this?"

"Well, I—" Gry watched as two dwarves carried food and mugs into a room.

"Oh, I see, thank you." Gry said over her shoulder, moving further into the house and following the dwarves into the room they disappeared into. She took the cloth off the top of her basket and placed the food on the t/ble along with the wine before looking up to find the dwarves staring at her.

"Hello." She greeted with a smile. "I'm Gry."

"Balin." An obviously older dwarf with white hair and a long white beard bowed.

"Dwalin." He was a rather intimidating looking dwarf despite the fact that he was bald at the top, for his head was tattooed. He had a long scar running down the right side of his head, cutting into his eyebrow. His beard, though rather short compared to the other's was thick and brown.

"At your service," the two said together, bowing lowly. She curtseyed and the three of them stood up.

"I did not know that Men would be joining us on our quest." Dwalin said, suspiciously.

"I do not expect there to be Men." Gry said, standing behind the table starting to realize that just because she had managed to convince Thorin didn't mean that her presence in this house was entirely welcomed. "I think that it is just me. Do you need help bringing things to the table?" she diverted the topic quickly. While everyone hated to feel uncomfortable, Gry was the sort of the person who did something about it rather than just resigning herself to the fate of awkwardness.

"Bring things to the table? You're all staying for dinner, then?" the hobbit had appeared again and was standing in the doorway to what Gry guessed was the dining room.

"Over this way." Dwalin said, jerking with his head and the three left the room, leaving the hobbit standing there with his questions completely unanswered.

"Have you eaten?" Balin asked.

"It's not that I don't like visitors. I…I like visitors as much as the next hobbit, but I do like to know them _before _they come… visiting." Gry sorted through the pantry, grabbing things off the shelf and balancing them on her arm while gathering more things. The dwarves talked amongst themselves, ignoring her, and all three ignored the hobbit.

"What's this?" Dwalin asked, taking something from Balin. Gry looked over and opened her mouth to answer, but Balin beat her to it.

"I don't know. I think it's supposed to be cheese."

"The thing is…" Bilbo sputtered as Dwalin held the cheese in front of Balin.

"Gone blue."

"It's riddled with mold." Dwalin commented, throwing the cheese over his shoulder and out of the pantry before Gry could inform them that it was _supposed _to be blue. She exhaled through her nose before continuing her task of grabbing food.

"The thing is, I don't…I don't know any of you, not in the slightest. I don't mean to be blunt, but I had to speak my mind. I'm sorry." The apology snapped all three's attention to the hobbit as they stared at him. Gry wasn't entirely sure what he apologized for, as she was focusing most of her attention on balancing the food on her arms.

"Apology accepted." Balin said with a kind smile before turning back to Dwalin.

"Oh, now, fill it up, brother, don't stint." Brother? The doorbell rang and Bilbo disappeared again. Gry made her way out of the pantry, placing the plates down on the table. She had not expected her skills as a waitress to come into use, at least not in so direct a way and so soon. Gry stepped back from the table and put her hands on her hips. The spread was growing, but as she looked around the room it seemed like there would not be enough room to fit in the two dwarves, herself, the hobbit, and Thorin. Let alone Gandalf. Gry looked up at the ceiling that was about a foot over her head, but she was short for a Man, only 5'3½" (the half was something she was quite proud of). Gry stood on her tiptoes and then stuck her hands out to her sides sitting in a chair, and stood up, her arms still to the sides when Balin and Dwalin came in. Gry looked up, her face growing red, but her arms remained where they were.

"She's right. There's not enough room in there for all of us." Balin said standing in the doorway next to his brother.

"We'll be needing some extra hands." Dwalin said exiting the room. Gry began to move the food back off the table to make it easier to move.

"Ah, that won't be necessary, miss." Balin said nodding at the plates that Gry set back down as Dwalin came in with another dwarf's arm around his shoulder. While it was sometimes hard to tell with dwarves, Gry could see that this dwarf was much younger than either Balin or Dwalin. It was probably the fact that he had a shadow of stubble instead of a beard. His hair was gathered back in much the same way as Gry's was in a half up/half down hairstyle. His dark brown hair, however, was much more billowing with tighter waves than Gry's own sandy brown hair which she liked to think flowed down to her mid-back where it ended in gentle curls. He had dark eyes that darted merrily around the room observing everything before eventually landing on Gry.

"And who's this?" he asked, turning to Dwalin. His words were not as confused as the hobbit's or as suspicious as Dwalin's. They were much more excited, and Gry at the instant decided that she liked him the best out of everyone she'd met so far, Thorin and perhaps even Gandalf included.

"Never mind that, we need your help makin' room." Dwalin dismissed as another dwarf with blonde hair walked into the room. He had blonde hair and broader, rounder, features than the dwarf with dark hair. He had blonde hair that was almost pulled back somewhat similarly to both the dark-haired dwarf and Gry, only their were two braids on either side of his face that dangled down that marched the braids coming down from the ends of his mustache.

"Mister Balin. Mister Dwalin." He greeted with a smile and a nod before his eyes landed on Gry.

"Who's this?" he asked. He was much more curious than the other new-coming dwarf. Dwalin let out a frustrated grunt and the dark-haired dwarf smiled as Gry threw a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing at the situation.

"Gry." Gry introduced herself, curtseying.

"Kíli." The dark-haired dwarf announced.

"And Fíli." The blonde added in. Gry was prepared for what came next and decided that she should probably tailor her introduction to include the "at your service" and bow.

"Let's shove this in the hallway, otherwise we'll never get everyone in." Balin suggested, standing over by the china cabinet.

"Everyone? How many more are there?" the hobbit asked as the doorbell rang again. The hobbit left the room shouting as Fíli moved over to help Dwalin move the cabinet and Kíli and Dwalin took hold of the table, moving it over into the center of the newfound space. Gry found herself quite in the way, but pretended not to notice as she started to take down chairs from the table, and scooting them under the table.

"How many more are coming, do you know?" Gry asked Kíli.

"Well there should be thirteen dwarves, then there's Gandalf, Mr. Boggins—"

"Baggins." Dwalin corrected.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Kíli asked. "Anyway, the thirteen, plus two, and then you, there aren't any more of you coming, are there?" It wasn't said confrontationally, but the thoughtlessness of how the question was phrased mad Gry start to rethink her opinion of Kíli.

"No. As far as I know I am the only Man coming."

"And woman." Kíli added with a wink.

"That'll be enough of that." Dwalin said, turning Kíli and shoving him out into the hall before ordering them around. From the sound of things out in the hall it appeared as if the rest of the dwarves had arrived. Suddenly the house was a flurry of activity as people started bringing in chairs and more food and dishes into the dining room. Gandalf had entered with just a nod and smile to Gry before he went about helping to set the table. Gry moved around, laying out the beautiful spread and listening to the greatly amusing shouts of Mr. Baggins to "Put that back! Put that back! That's mine! That's an antique! You can't—is that my wine? No!" A dwarf entered the dining room with a pot of tea and a couple of cups and offered one to Gandalf.

"Excuse me, Mister Gandalf? May I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?"

"No thank you, Dori. A little red wine will do it for me I think." Gandalf refused.

"Ah, excuse me, Dori is it? I'll take a cup if it isn't too much a bother." Gry called across the table. He looked at her for a second and then gave a nod, pouring a cup and passing it over. Besides the first four dwarves it seemed as if everyone was too busy to notice her presence let alone comment on it, and although this encounter offered an excellent opportunity for introductions, once the cup was handed over to her, Dori disappeared through the doorway. Gry shrugged and placed her cup on the table, watching as Gandalf ducked underneath the doorway and hit his head on the chandelier. He appeared to be counting each member of the company to make sure they were there.

"Not that! No!" Gry stuck her head out, listening to this particularly loud refusal and saw Mr. Baggins wrench a basket of tomatoes out of one of the younger dwarf's hands.

"Mr. Baggins!" Gry called, taking up her tea and walking out into the hallway. She walked over to the hobbit, gently taking him by the elbow and guiding him away from the stream of dwarves who were emptying the pantry. "Perhaps you should sit down. You've been on your feet since I got here, and I'm sure they're wanting a rest." She smiled warmly. "Let's go take a seat in the living room, yes?" Of course, she had already effectively guided him there already and would not take no for an answer. He just toddled along, looking over his shoulder and still tightly clutching his tomatoes. Gry sat him down in a large armchair.

"There we are. Much more comfortable, right?" He seemed too shocked and bothered to even answer her. "Here, have a cup of chamomile. It'll do you good." She said, offering Mr. Baggins her own cup of tea. He looked at it for a second before gently placing the tomatoes in his lap and taking the cup from Gry.

"Yes, thank you." He said, taking a sip.

"You have quite a lovely home." Gry complimented, looking around. The house seemed to be the pinnacle of warmth and comfort. "How long have you had it?"

"It's been in the family for years—put that back." He sprung up, almost splashing tea on himself and Gry. Gry gently pushed him back down into the armchair.

"Don't you worry Mr. Baggins. I'll make sure they don't completely clear you out." Gry knew it was probably one of the emptier promises she'd made in a while. "Just sit here, and try to relax, and I'll save you a plate of dinner if you'd rather eat once everything's quieted down. Gry said, leaving the hobbit and going back into the dining room. It appeared as if everything was all set up, and quite a glorious spread of food there was. Gry wasn't sure she'd ever seen anything quite like it. Gry moved down to the end of the table where she saw a couple of empty plates and settled herself down into the seat at the very end of the table across from the dwarf that Mr. Baggins had confiscated the tomatoes from and Kíli.

"Who wants an ale?" Fíli asked, walking down the table as Gry started loading up her plate, jerking her hand out of the way to avoid being stepped on.

"Over here with that!" someone called.

"There you go."

"Here!" Gry said reaching up.

"Really?" Fíli asked quirking an eyebrow, but nevertheless passing one down. The dining room was filled with mirth and it reminded Gry greatly of the Prancinc Pony. Only, much louder. Also the dwarves table manners were entirely reprehensible as they grabbed everything in sight and stuffed their faces, throwing food to pass it to each other. They laughed and talked with their mouths full of food also chewing with their mouths open. It was entirely disgusting, rude, and entertaining. Gry couldn't help but laugh along with everyone else, despite the fact that she had absolutely no idea what was going on.

"Sure you can hold your ale?" Kíli asked, mouth full of food leaning over towards her.

"I think you'd be surprised." Gry countered, taking a drink as if to prove her point. She had to prove that she could keep up now otherwise she'd never win the respect of the dwarves, and this whole quest would be miserable.

"Alright, on the count of three!" a dwarf with a very odd looking hat called, leaning into the center of the table. Those nearby clinked mugs with him while Gry and her end of the table just held theirs up. "One, two…" they all brought their mugs to their faces and the dwarves drank the way they ate: sloppily, with it trickling down their face and into their beards, large slurping sounds emitting from behind the mug. Gry, instead, drank swiftly, careful not to waste a drop, but as she didn't have half of it down her front by the time others were slamming their mugs down on the table, Gry was at most halfway done. The dwarf with pointy hair began to belch soon followed by the tomatoes-dwarf. Gry laughed along with the rest of the dwarves before to her embarrassment she belched loudly as well. There was a small silence after the fact before everyone roared with laughter. Even Dwalin. Gry laughed good naturedly, but she still turned red.

"I see we were wrong to doubt you." Fíli cried, clapping her on the back with such force that Gry was thrown into the table a little.

"Careful, brother. You don't want to break her!" Kíli called, causing a new round of laughter. Another set of brothers, excellent. At least their names rhymed to make it easier to remember. Balin & Dwalin. Kíli & Fíli. Dori. She looked around. She had no idea who anyone else's name was. Besides Gandalf. And Thorin. But as she looked around, she realized that she did not see the king.

"Where is Thorin?" she called over the merriment.

"I'm sure he's on his way." Kíli shrugged, shoveling more food into his mouth.

"He had a meeting with out kin." Fíli filled in.

"Excuse me, but how do you know Thorin?" The dwarf who had been yelled at by Mr. Baggins asked.

"I met him and Gandalf at the Prancing Pony."

"You're the—" Kíli was cut off by a look from Fíli. "Never mind." Gry was sure that whatever words Thorin Oakenshield had used to describe her were not pleasant. She was not surprised that they would not be dinner-table appropriate, however she was a little surprised that they were so bad as to not be _dwarf_-dinner-table appropriate. She supposed that maybe Fíli was trying to save her feelings.

"Yes, I'm Gry." It didn't exactly match up to what he was saying, but she supposed it was the best way to move along the conversation.

"Ori. At your service." The other young dwarf said nodding before taking a huge bite of meat.

"What's it like working at the Prancing Pony?" Fíli asked.

"It's—"

"I've heard the ale there's great. Second only to dwarven brews." Kíli interrupted. Rather than being affronted by the interruption Gry just grinned.

"Some say it's even better." She said.

"Looks like you can't handle your ale after all. It's already added your mind." He returned and Gry let out a laugh,

"I'm sharp as a tack. You, however, appear to be too drunk to know how to use a napkin," Gry shot back, throwing a napkin at Kíli's face. Fíli roared with laughter as they continued to joke through dinner, momentarily skipping over all of the "get to know you" questions.

However, in the grand scheme of things, dinner did not last very long. Apparently thirteen hungy dwarves can clean out a fully stocked hobbit's pantry with great ease. As soon as each dwarf had eaten his fill he had left the dining room and took his drink elsewhere around the house to talk in smaller groups. Mr. Baggins had also left his seat in the living room (in which he had remained for most of dinner) and appeared to be having a rather tense conversation with Gandalf who, through everything, appeared very calm and collected. Gry was one of the few left at the table, along with Dori and Ori, as she and Dori wrapped up small plates of food that they had managed to save for Thorin (who had yet to show up) and Mr. Baggins.

"Ori, clear your plate from the table." Dori directed. While she had not been directly told, Gry had managed to pick up that Dori was really the second mother (aka. older brother) to Ori.

"But what do I do with?" Ori asked. Gry had also gathered that in some respects, Ori needed this extra mothering.

"Why don't you ask, Mr. Baggins?" Gry suggested and Ori left the room, holding his plate like a wounded little bird between his hands.

"I worry about that one sometimes." Dori clucked. Gry swallowed her comment as she walked out into the hallway where Ori, Mr. Baggins, Gandalf, and now Fíli stood, to take the plates to sit in wait in the pantry. Gry had just taken a step out when a plate flew in front of her face and almost hit Gandalf had he not backed up into a wall to avoid it. Gry moved to the side as another plate flew by the side of her face and Fíli caught it. Bilbo looked absolutely horrified.

"Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing pottery. It's over a hundred years old!" At this point the tricks had begun. Fíli kicked a bowl over to Kíli and then bounced one off his elbows before throwing it over Gandalf's ducked head. A sound of clicking and stomping sounded from the room that Gry had just left, and sticking her head in, Gry saw that some of the dwarves had wandered back and sat across from each other clicking their silverware together. "And can you not do that? You'll blunt them." Bilbo snapped at the dwarves in the dining room.

"Ooh, do you hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives." The dwarf with the funny hat said. Gry bit the insides of her cheeks to keep herself from smiling. And then, to add to all of the excitement, the singing began.

"_Blunt the knives, bend the forks!"_ Kíli sang, gesturing for another plate.

"_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!" _Fíli continued. Without warning everyone began singing along, somehow they all knew the words and they all broke into song, plates and silverware flying in the air. Gry staying pressed up against the wall to avoid being hit by anything as she was certain her coordination was nowhere near the level of the dwarves'.

"_Chip the glasses and crack the plates_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

_Cut the cloth, tread on the fat _

_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat _

_Pour the milk on the pantry floor _

_Splash the wine on every door!_

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl _

_Pound them up with a thumping pole _

_When you've finished, if any are whole, _

_Send them down the hall to roll."_

At this point there was a musical interlude as someone somewhere played a sort of pipe and the sound of clinking dishes provided a steady beat. Gry nodded her head along with the music as her hands were preoccupied. At last it seemed as if the coast was clear and Bilbo charged into the kitchen, Gry following closely behind him to see what was happening.

_"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" _everyone yelled before bursting into laughter. Gry came in behind Bilbo and looking in over his head. The dwarves had cleaned and neatly stacked all of his dishes into great piles, and all stood around proudly peering at Bilbo's reaction, which Gry was sure must have been priceless.

"Look at his face!" Kíli could hardly breathe as he pointed his pipe at Bilbo.

There were three heavy knocks at the door as everyone went quiet and looked back into the hall. There was a moment of silence before Gandalf took his pipe down from his mouth and looked at them all.

"He is here."

* * *

**Ending Thoughts:: **_I cannot wait until we're out of Hobbiton and the quest begins. I have such exciting things planned! Well, the good news is that next chapter should be the last one before the quest begins, and next chapter shouldn't be as long as this one either. Anyway hopefully I'll have it up soon. Thoughts, questions, comments, and jokes are much appreciated! _


	4. Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold

**(Chapter 3) Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold**

**Author's Note:: **_Thanks to my wonderful reviewers who inspired me to get writing and make sure to get this next part up sooner than anticipated. (: Now onto Thorin._

* * *

"_**You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone's soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows that they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.**_" {Eric Morgenstern, The Night Circus}

Gandalf led the way out of the kitchen and despite the fact that it was Bilbo's home, was the one to open the door. Half of the dwarves crammed into the archway between the hall and the living room, peering over each other for a look at Thorin, while the other went the other way to wait in the hall in a sort of receiving line.

"Gandalf." Thorin said in greeting. He looked to be in the same mildly unhappy mood as he was the last time she'd met him. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." He said, entering the room giving a nod to the dwarves in the archway who bowed in response. Bilbo bushed his way through the crowd in the archway as Gandalf closed the door.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!" he exclaimed, attempting to get around Gandalf who stood blocking the door so that Bilbo could not check. Gry felt a little sorry for the hobbit who it appeared had not been expecting for his life to be overrun and turned upside-down by dwarves.

"There is a mark. I put it there myself." Gandalf informed shortly and calmly while Thorin greeted those in the receiving line with a nod, and a…smile? Gry craned her neck, turning to look at who he could possibly be smiling at and found that Kíli stood close by a grin stretched across his face. It seemed like her assessment of Kíli as the friendly dwarf could not have been so far off base if he was able to bring a smile to Thorin's face. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf introduced.

Thorin approached Bilbo, and he appeared to loom over the hobbit having about a foot over him, his coats and furs adding extra width as well. "So, this is the hobbit." He noted. He seemed amused. While Gry had had to deal with his bitter temper and resentment of her involvement in the conversation, at least he hadn't laughed at her. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin asked, circling Bilbo, similar to one circling their prey.

"Pardon me?" Bilbo asked.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"Thorin asked ending back in his original spot with his dwarves behind him like reinforcements. He crossed his arm, eyebrow raised and smirk still apparent underneath all of his facial hair.

"Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant." Bilbo trailed off miserably.

"Thought as much." Thorin said looking back at his gang. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." There was a burst of laughter, and Gry bit her lip hard to keep herself from shouting at Thorin and the rest of the dwarves like she wanted too. Gandalf shot her a warning look. _My father was a brilliant and brave man._ She thought angrily. _Had he wanted too he could have easily worked his way to the top as a soldier or member of the guard, but he chose to be a peaceful grocer. He would be able to tire even you, King without a Mountain. _Thorin turned into the archway, making his way into the kitchen, no doubt in search of food. He didn't even notice her.

"Have the lot of you cleaned the hobbit out then?" he asked, looking at the stacks of clean dishes.

"Actually, we have a plate or bowl saved for you." Gry called from the doorway. Thorin turned the happiness that had overtaken him when he embarrassed Bilbo seeped away at the sight of her

"So, you came." Thorin said, back to the moody self that Gry was used to.

"I said I would." Gry answered. "And it's a good thing too, otherwise this lot would have cleaned out the hobbit and let you starve." Dori looked slightly affronted, but the dwarf with the odd hat started to laugh.

"The lass is right. Were you ten minutes later I'm sure Bombur would have found his way into your bowl for his customary after-dinner snack." This comment led the dwarves into another round of laughter and Gry felt incredibly thankful to the hatted dwarf who gave her a wink and a smile.

Fíli and Kíli burst out laughing, others quickly joining in. "There's more room in here." Gry said, gesturing with her head. It was as if she owned the place. Gry placed the bowl down at the head of the table, taking a piece of bread off of Bilbo's plate and putting it off to the side.

"Can I interest in you in some ale? Or perhaps a glass of wine?" Dori asked, hovering over Thorin as the rest of the dwarves filed into the dining room.

"He'll have what I'm having." Dwalin said, gesturing with his mug. Thorin looked up giving a grateful smile. Dori hurried out and Gry moved further in, sitting across from her previous seat and in between Ori and the dwarf with triangular hair, putting Bilbo's plate down in front of her. It was odd watching the dwarves sit in silence, watching Thorin as he ate. Gandalf came in and sat himself down next to Thorin near the head of the table. Dori pushed to the back of the room having fetched Thorin his ale and made room for himself between Gry and the pointy-haired dwarf, ignoring their grumbles of protest.

"What news from the meeting of Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin broke the silence finally.

"Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms." Thorin answered and the dwarves made sounds of approval.

"What did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked across the noise. "Is Dáin with us?" Thorin sighed and from the look on his face Gry knew the answer.

"They will not come." He admitted finally. There was a chorus of disappointed sighs.

"They say this quest is ours and ours alone." The dwarves all sat back from the table.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo's small voice chirped from over Gandalf's shoulder

"Bilbo!" Gandalf said surprised at the hobbit's presence. "My dear fellow, let us have some more light." Bilbo nodded and left to get more light as Gandalf retrieved a small folded up piece of paper from his robe. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak." He pointed at the piece of paper which Gry assumed was a map.

"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo read and Gry whispered it at the same time causing the dwarves around her to look at her.

"Aye. Óin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time." A rather large and loud dwarf with red hair and a great red beard affirmed.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold." The dwarf with the ear trumpet that Gry assumed was Óin added. "When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." His voice was low and dramatic. Gry leaned forward in her seat.

"Uh—w hat beast?" Bilbo asked wandering back into the dining room from wherever it was that he had gone to do. (Gry honestly hadn't even notice that he had left.)

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible." The dwarf with the funny hat informed casually, bringing his pipe away from his mouth. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our Age. Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo cut across him.

"I'm not afraid!" Ori said suddenly shooting up from his seat. Gry fell into Dori in surprise. "I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!" The dwarves all murmured approval, some letting loose a few laughs.

"Sit down." Dori said, reaching around Gry's back and pulling Ori down.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin said, everyone falling silent to listen to his words of wisdom. "But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best…nor brightest." Well. He certainly didn't mince words. There was a general rumble of disagreement.

"Hey, who are you calling dim?" the pointy-haired dwarf called angrily.

"What did he say?" Óin asked. It seemed that everyone was at least slightly offended by the comment. Fíli slammed his hand down on the table.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters. All of us. To the last dwarf!" He emphasized his last statement with another slam of the hand.

"And you forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Kíli added excitedly. Their words were surprisingly encouraging, and Gry found herself gaining more faith in their small troop.

"Oh, well, now, I wouldn't say…" Gandalf protested putting his hand up. The feeling of faith slowly seeped away.

"How many then?" Dori asked politely, but seriously. Gry was used to that tone of voice from her mother.

"What?" Gandalf asked.

"How many dragons have you killed?" Dori clarified despite the fact that really, no explanation should have been necessary. Everyone waited in silence, staring expectantly at Gandalf as the wizard began to smoke at the mouth. Thorin looked at Gandalf but did not seem very surprised at the wizard's reluctance to share just how many dragons he had helped to slay. "Go on, give us a number." Dori pushed and as it became _quite_ obvious that the company was not as well-set for this quest as they had all assumed. Gry sat, staring shocked at the table as all around her dwarves rose to their feet, leaning on the table and shouting at one another, general chaos broke out due to the revelation. Thorin suddenly stood to his feet, screaming a word in Dwarvish. In a second all of the dwarves were sitting down quietly, staring up at him.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" Cheers erupted as all of the dwarves found themselves once again inspired. Gry took a second to marvel at their mercurial temperaments before she thought more of Thorin's words. _Nobody has heard from the dragon in 60 years_. Clearly none of them had spoken to anyone from Lake-Town recently. For a second Gry considered voicing the correction, but she kept her mouth shut. She was already a probationary member, becoming a killjoy would not persuade others to accept her quicker. Instead, Balin took over the role as Thorin sat down.

"You forget, the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf said producing a key from seemingly out of nowhere. It seemed as if there was a collective inhale as everyone's attention turned towards the key. The key into the mountain.

"How came you by this?" Thorin whispered, loudly.

"It was given to me by your father. By Thráin. For safekeeping. It is your now." Gandalf said handing Thorin the key.

"If there is a key, there must be a door." Fíli said as if trying to wrap his head around it.

_Yes, thank you King of the Obvious, _Gry thought. _That is generally what a key implies, especially when we're talking about ways into the Mountain. _Gandalf did not look as put out by this statement as Gry felt, but he pointed to the map.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage into the Lower Halls."

"There's another way in." Kíli said excitedly, shaking his brother's shoulders. Gry felt that Gandalf telling the group that it wasn't entirely true that there was no way in and producing a key had already covered all of these issues, but apparently the good news was too much for the dwarves to comprehend. Gry tried to keep the look of _Duh!_ off of her face. _Probationary member_, a little voice in the back of her head reminded her. _You can't crush their excitement. You should be as excited at they are, or at least pretend to be._

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf said with a sigh. " The answer lies somewhere hidden in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle-earth who can." Thorin glanced at Gandalf sideways as the wizard said this. They must have had a specific person in mind, and Thorin did not look too happy about who was chosen. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But if we're careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar." Ori said, just catching on. _Probationary member!_ The little voice yelled at Gry.

"Hm, and a good one too. An expert, I'd imagine." Bilbo said holding his suspenders and peering over at the map. Gry could have laughed at how all of the information seemed to just be flying over everyone's heads. _This is why they need a woman_, she thought to herself.

"And are you?" the large, red-haired dwarf asked. Bilbo stared at him for a second and then looked over his shoulder before turning back to the dwarf.

"Am I what?" the hobbit asked.

"He said he's an expert!" Óin exclaimed excitedly, giving a cheer others around gave sounds of approval as well.

"Me?" Bilbo asked surprised. "No, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin said, shaking his head. Bilbo shook his head as if to say, _"Well there you have it. Now, leave me out of this business."_

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin agreed, looking to Gry as he said the second part of the statement. Gry met his stare, unblinking, quietly rolling up her sleeves in a way that she'd seen men do behind the Prancing Pony as they were about to fight. He quirked an eyebrow at her as everyone began to murmur their agreement or disagreement with the two brothers' appraisal of Bilbo's burglar-ness.

"And just what are you suggesting with that look, Mr. Dwalin? That as a woman I would need a man to defend me?" Gry asked, polite but cold. _Just remember, _the little voice came back, y_ou __**can't **__actually defend yourself, so don't talk yourself into a position where these men won't protect you. _

"You won't be just defending yourself, lass. You'll be fighting in defense of everyone in this company. So if your skills aren't what they say they are, it won't just be your life on your head—"

"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is." Gandalf boomed, standing up tall so that he towared over the table. The response was not as immediate as Thorin's earlier intervention, but the table soon quieted. " Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose, and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives as a distinct advantage." Gandalf sat down. "You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I've chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including himself." Gandalf added, giving a pointed look to Bilbo. "You must trust me on this." His attention focused on Thorin now, who met the Wizard's eyes, staring quietly for a moment.  
"Very well," he finally relented. "We'll do it your way. Give him a contract." Bilbo looked absolutely horrified and was gesturing quite clearly: No! Balin drew a piece of paper holding it out to Bibo as the rest of the dwarves began to talk amongst themselves.

"It's just the usual summary about the pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Thorin took the piece of paper that was being held over his shoulder and shoved it back into Bilbo's chest without looking. The hobbit looked down at it.

"Funeral arrangements?" he asked. Nobody answered. Bilbo tottered off into the hall where he began to read the long contract.

"And one for Miss Gry." Balin said, passing a similar paper down to her.

"Hold on," Kíli said suddenly, and the table turned to look at him.

"If we already have a burglar, then what's she doing here?"

"_She_ has a name, and if you've forgotten it already, you could just ask." Gry retorted, a little embarrassed at having the attention turned entirely on her. It was not that she had not expected this, but after having made it through the whole dinner without being questioned, she had assumed that she was mostly in the clear. Suddenly the murmurings around the table turned to the topic of her. The Man. The woman. What _was _she doing here?

"Now this is question to which I would very much like to hear the answer." Thorin said, leaning back in his chair a little bit.

"You would like to know why I wish to come on this quest?" Gry asked finally, standing up. "I'll tell you. When I heard about this quest, I knew that I needed to come and accompany you. Ever since I was a little girl, my father told me the stories of the gleaming jewel that was Dale and the grandeur of Erebor. He told me of how your home was unfairly ripped away from you and of the many lives lost on that dark day. He also told me that the pain has not stopped, and that over the centuries Smaug has continued to haunt those of the North and those of the Blue Mountains. I know next to nothing of the world compared to you. Even the youngest among you, I am sure, has lived the expanse of my years thrice over. But I know that people deserve justice. I know that people should not live in fear, and pain, and that Smaug must pay for the suffering that he has caused. He must be stopped." Gry stopped for a second, taking a breath and calming herself. "Were my father alive, he would be at this table telling you of why he was sitting here amongst you, not me. As his only child, I owe it to him, and to all of my ancestors, to help you complete it. So what am I doing here? I am here to do whatever it takes to destroy Smaug and help you take back your Mountain!" She thanked her lucky stars that she had been given her father's eloquence and oratory skills. There was a general cheer amongst the dwarves and even Kíli who had questioned smiled and clapped a little.

"Excuse me," Bilbo popped his head in. "But this can't be right, _incineration_?" he asked pointing at the contract.

"Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh right off our bones in the blink of an eye." The dwarf with the funny hat said, rather cheerily.

"Huh." Bilbo said, looking back down at the ground. He looked frozen, stuck.

"I don't suppose anyone has something to sign this with?" Gry said. Gandalf quickly handed a quill and pen over, produced from, once again, who knows where, and Gry signed her name with a flourish, before looking back up the table, signed contract outstretched. Bilbo stood there, holding his knees and breathing out.

"I feel a bit faint," the hobbit commented, straightening up.

"Think furnace with wings." the ever-helpful dwarf with the hat said, standing up.

"I-I-I- need air." Bilbo did not look well.'

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash." Bilbo sat there, straightening and then hunching over in an attempt to collect himself. Gry felt the contract being taken out of her hands, but her focus was too much on Bilbo to note who took it.

Just when Gry was sure that Bilbo was going to be ok, he let out a decisive "No." and then fell to the ground, passed out.

"Very helpful, Bofur." Gandalf commented leaving the room to see to Bilbo.

"Well someone get Mr. Baggins to a chair or something." Thorin said, clearly put out by the fact that Bilbo was faint of heart. Bofur, the dwarf with the hat, was the first to leap up, which was rather nice despite the fact that he was the one to cause the incident. Dwalin came around from his seat at the table to help Bofur move the hobbit.

"I'll put on a pot of tea." Dori cried out, moving out of the room to make sure that Bilbo woke up to something soothing to drink. Kíli was snickering, but attempting to hide it. Gry did find it rather comical herself, but given that Fíli hit Kíli rather hard to get his brother to stop, Gry decided it was safest to keep her amusement to herself.

The rest of the dwarves broke up the party as well, some wandering off alone and others wandering off into pairs to talk or just spend time to think by themselves. Gry left the room hearing the teapot whistle from the kitchen and having just seen Dori running after Nori chiding him about one thing or the other. Gry took a mug off of the table and found the chamomile tea still sitting on the counter from where Dori had gotten it out earlier. Carefully she steeped the tea, making it in the same way she did for her mother whenever her mother got home from work. She wasn't sure what she was expecting when she had agreed to come on the quest, but certainly she had not expected so much pettiness on behalf of Thorin and some of the other dwarves or reluctance on Mr. Baggins' part. She had just assumed that Gandalf had already found an _interested_ party. After all, who didn't crave adventure? Who didn't want to say that they were a part of something bigger; a turning point in history? Gry took the mug into the sitting room where she assumed Bilbo had been rested, to find him sitting up in the chair, Gandalf standing across from him smoking a pipe.

"Here you are, Mr. Baggins." Gry said, passing over the tea.

"Ah, yes. Thank you." He said awkwardly, accepting it and then staring down into it. Gry nodded, and, sensing that Gandalf wanted a moment to speak with Bilbo, left the room. The dwarves were now scattered around the house, and remarkably quiet. Even the conversations between them were hushed and calm. It was getting pretty late, and Gry could feel the ale start to weigh her bones down. No, Gry wasn't sure what she had been expected, but it hadn't been this. Deciding that she didn't want Bilbo to have another conniption later on at the state of his house, Gry took the opportunity seeing everyone was settled to go around and start to clean up after the party. It took some time to find a broom, and she had a small inner-argument about how far pushed back in the cabinets the plates should be that way Bilbo could reach them later on, but Gry managed to do a rather good first sweep of the house so that it was in presentable (but not pristine) shape. Gry just finished putting the broom back up when she heard a low humming coming from elsewhere in the house. Gry followed the sound, finding herself trailing behind Kíli and Fíli into the living room where all the dwarves had congregated. Fíli stood against the archway, leaning against it and looking into the room, only turning to give her a friendly smile when he heard Gry sliding down the other side, sitting with her back to the archway so that she could see into the rooms, and be off her feet once again. Thorin stood by the fireplace, staring into it and amidst all the humming he quietly began to sing.

"_Far over the Misty Mountains cold_

_to dungeons deep_

_and caverns old_

_We must away_

_'ere break of day_

_to find the long forgotten gold_."

The song was hauntingly beautiful and Gry found herself lost in it as she stared at the fireplace herself, the other joins joining in.

"_The pines were roaring on the height_

_The winds were moaning in the night_

_The fire was red_

_It flaming spread_

_The trees like torches blazed with light_."

The humming picked up again, and Gry closed her eyes, imagining the sights of Erebor and the verses of the songs, and at some point, she was lulled to sleep by the low sounds of the dwarves' song.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts: **_Just hours away from leaving Hobbiton and then the exciting parts of the quest begins! Yay! _


	5. The Things that Hang Over

**(Chapter 4) The Things that Hang Over**

**Author's Note: **_I'm sorry that everything has been so slow in starting, but things should be much better from here on out. We finally get to see Gry actually interact with the characters more, so, yay for stuff that you didn't already watch in the movie! Also, I have a picture of Gry on my profile, so check it out!_

* * *

"_**I believe that one can never leave home. I believe that one carries the shadows, the dreams, the fears and the dragons of home under one's skin, at the extreme corners of one's eyes and possibly in the gristle of the earlobe**_." {Maya Angelou, _Letter to My Daughter_}

Gry awoke with a great gasp as something heavy hit the floor beside her. Heart pounding, she quickly looked around trying to take in her surroundings. She was not at home. The sheer amount of _stuff _around her alerted her to that. As Gry snapped her head to the side, she found a dwarf scrambling up off the floor, looking very embarrassed, and that's when the events of the previous night all came back. Well, that and a dull ache in her leg. Gry bent in half, reaching to touch it as if to be sure it was there. Applying more pressure than she should have, Gry winced as she found the location of the pain.

"Sorry about that." Ori said from her left, standing over her nervously. Gry looked up at him, and straightened herself up so that she was back in her sitting/apparently sleeping position. She offered a smile.

"Just an odd way to wake up." She said, shaking her head. Luckily for Ori, Gry was a morning person, and he reminded her a bit of a lost puppy, so even if she wasn't a morning person, Gry wasn't entirely sure that she would be able to get angry at him. Gry placed her hands on either side of body so that she could push herself up off the floor. She dusted her hands off on her skirt. "To be quite honest, I didn't even know that I was here to be tripped over. Don't tell Kíli, but I'm apparently not as good as I thought at holding my ale." She offered with a smile.

"Too late." A voice came from behind her, as Kíli and Fíli navigated around Gry and Ori who were standing in the doorway. "But I already knew you couldn't, so there's really no harm done there." He offered with a smirk.

"Ori, let's get a move on. They're already halfway back to the inn." Fíli ordered

"The inn?" Gry asked.

"We're picking up the ponies there before we leave." Fíli supplied.

"And have breakfast?" the young dwarf asked hopefully. Fíli nodded.

"Are you coming, Gry?" Kíli asked as the three dwarves started to depart. Gry looked around noticing that most of the dwarves were gone from the spots that they had been in last night. It appeared as if no one else was in the house and if Ori hadn't tripped over her, she would have been left behind with Bilbo.

_That is a dirty trick, Thorin Oakenshield._ Gry thought to herself, quite miffed.

"What's the matter, then?" Kíli's voice once again reached her. Her mother had always said that she could read Gry like a book because her thoughts were always apparent on her face, there for the world to see. As good as Gry was at hiding things when she made a conscience effort, she was truly awful at keeping her thoughts to herself in just normal conversation.

"It's of no importance." Gry shook her head before walking up to where he was in the hall.

"That is not what your face suggests." He pushed. Gry worked very hard to arrange her face in a manner that suggested that it actually didn't matter that much, but she cold tell that she was failing.

"Well honestly, I was just thinking that if Ori hadn't tripped over me, then I would have been left here to house-sit for Mr. Baggins." Gry said, a little snippy as she walked next to him out the door.

"Well, Gandalf sent Ori in to wake you up, not trip over you, but then he lost his notebook and Fíli and I came after him since he was taking a while. Second, I don't think that Mr. Boggins will be needing a house-sitter."

"Oh." Gry said, coloring from having been set straight. "Oh. Well, it's like I said then, it's of no importance." Kíli just laughed at her as the two caught up to Ori and Fíli. It appeared that Fíli had not been exaggerating about how far along the party was for none of the other dwarves were in sight; they must have already gotten to the Green Dragon Inn. Suddenly something Kíli said sunk in. "Wait, is Mr. Baggins not coming, then?"

"His contract wasn't signed." Fíli said shrugging.

"Did you not wake him to check?" Gry asked, feeling affronted on Bilbo's behalf.

"Did he look last night as if he wanted to go?" Fíli asked, slightly amused. He had a point there. "We assumed that he did not wish to be woken."

"Besides, it does not seem very smart to have someone who faints at that the mere stories of Smaug accompany us as our burglar. Can you imagine what he'd do if he saw the beast?" Kíli laughed. Gry herself giggled a little at the thought of Bilbo standing in front of Smaug and wagging his finger while telling him, _I was not expecting to be incinerated today, thank you very much. I do not mean to be blunt, but I must insist that you come back once I have time to get my affairs in order. I'm sorry, but this will have to wait for at least three days. _

"Now, that is not fair." Gry said between her giggles. "He is a hobbit. Hobbits are very fond of the comforts of home and know very little of what lies outside its borders. If I had heard of this beast for the first time, I might have been lying on the floor with him."

"Did you faint when you first heard them? As a little girl?" Kíli asked, still grinning.

"No." Gry admitted, calming down her laughter. "No. But I did have my father check out my window every night before bed to make sure that the skies were clear." She said. "That's when he started teaching me to hide from Smaug. Of course, I know now that one can't hide from a dragon, but at the time it did make me feel much better." The party had reached the Green Dragon Inn and as they walked in they found that indeed everyone already seated in front of a good breakfast. Gry set herself at the end of the table beside Ori and across from Kíli and Fíli, their conversation stopping as they instead chose to fill their mouths with food.

**_– After Some Time – _**

Gry came outside having finished her affairs at the Inn, with her pack on her back. The rest of the dwarves were saddling up their ponies in the back, and Gry went to see about her horse. It had been her father's horse that he used to ride with her, and although he had never taught her how to ride particularly well, she had received a much-needed crash-course in the three days' journey from Bree to the Shire. From where she was, she could hear that the conversation had turned to Bilbo once more.

"He's not made for the wild. He'll stay in his hole until the sky comes falling down." The pointy haired dwarf commented. Gry lifted herself up into the saddle, swinging her leg over to mount her horse. To her surprise it did not take her more than one attempt this time.

"Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?" Óin asked, his ear trumpet held up to his ear.

"The question is are you?" the pointy-haired asked and the two clasped hands.

"What's this about?" Gry asked, guiding her horse over to the dwarves.

"It appears that we are taking wagers as to whether or not Mr. Baggins will accompany us on this quest, and I say he will." He said to the pointy haired dwarf, who looked very pleased at the prospect of collecting more gold.

"There's no way the likes of him will be coming." Dwalin called from where he had saddled up his horse. "I'm with ya, lad." He nodded over.

"I must agree with my brother on this one, but I am not joining the bet." Balin said.

"Let's get a move on. We can take wagers on the road." Thorin called out, grumpy as ever.

"Well, I will." Fíli said as they trod down the path. "Mr. Baggins is just too fond of his home to leave it. Besides, he'll need to wake up in time to catch us if he wants to come." The company of dwarves laughed at this, even those who betted in favor of Bilbo.

"I'm prepared to bet not only that Mr. Baggins shows up on this quest, but that he catches up with our party today." Gry said from atop her horse. She said it to be contrary; she did not actually believe that Bilbo would be coming, Fíli had convinced her of that, but she always had the desire to make things more interestingly, and this would certainly do just that.

"Yes, I do believe he will, Miss Gry." Gandalf agreed.

The rest of the party continued to name amounts and make comments about how likely it was that Bilbo was to show up, and when suddenly there was a large sound of pounding feet and rustling and someone loudly called: "Wait!" the party halted to a stop as people turned around in their seats to find Bilbo Baggins standing there, signed contract in hand, panting like mad. Thorin looked absolutely shocked and like he was torn between being pleasantly surprised at the hobbit's adventurous spirit or completely annoyed with the hobbit's naivety, lateness, and assumed incompetence. Gry sat on her horse next to Balin and in front of Fíli absolutely dumbstruck. She had already portioned aside the amount she bet so that it would be easier to hand over tonight when Bilbo didn't show up, but here was, holding the contract over his head and looking quite pleased with himself.

"I signed it." He said, reaching up with a smile and handing it to Balin who took out a pair of glasses to read over it.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Mr. Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." Balin said, giving Bilbo a small smile and a wink. Thorin turned back around to face the road.

"Give him a pony." Bilbo's look of delight immediately vanished amid his protests.

"I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. I've even been as far as Frogmorton once." Nobody gave him much mind as Fíli and Kíli came on either side of him and lifted him up onto a pony.

"Come on Nori, pay up. Go on!" Óin called from up ahead. Pouches of money flew through the air as the few who had faith in Bilbo (or who were lucky enough to be rewarded for being contrary) caught their earnings.

Fíli rode up beside Gry, quietly handing her her winnings. She spilled out half, putting them into her bag before pushing the rest back to him.

"I was expecting to pay _you_." She said. "I wouldn't have bet so much if I thought I'd be getting it." He looked completely confused at this statement, but took the pouch anyway.

"You are quite strange." He said. _I thought it'd make you like me more. _Gry wanted to say. _After all, who doesn't want to let the girl stupid enough to bet against everyone else and practically give away her money, come along. I was going to pay you to like me. _Instead of saying this however, she simply smiled.

"Some may say that."

"Stop. Stop! We have to turn around." Bilbo announced loudly from where he rode next to Gandalf (who had come back to where Gry, Kíli, Fíli and Óin were in order to ride alongside the hobbit).

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked, looking at Bilbo who was rummaging in his pockets.

"I forgot my handkerchief." Bilbo informed, seriously. Gry let out a snort as Kíli and Fíli snickered from behind.

"Here, use this!" Bofur called, ripping off a piece of cloth and throwing it back to Bilbo who surprisingly caught it, but held it up between his thumb and forefinger, looking horrified at it.

"Move on." Someone called from the front, and once more the party began to move along.

"I'm sure Uncle loves this." Kíli said, as Bilbo shook out the rag a little before finally prodding his pony to move along.

"Uncle?" Gry asked.

"Uncle Thorin." Kíli clarified. "He's our mother's brother."

"Practically raised us." Fíli added.

"_Uncle_?" Gry asked again, now more shocked.

"Did we not just have this conversation?" Kíli joked with a smile.

"And that makes you—princes?" She didn't know why she was so shocked. Oh, yes she did. Because if she was to pick out any of the two dwarves from this company to be princes, it would most certainly _not_ be Kíli and Fíli. Well, maybe Fíli, but not Kíli.

"Fíli's second in line, and I'm third." Kíli clarified. "Nervous now that you're in the presence of royalty?" Gry snorted.

"What?" Kíli asked, a little offended.

"Just not what I expected." Gry answered. "I would have thought that maybe him up there was royalty," She said attempting to point to the large red-haired dwarf who rode behind Thorin.

"What, Glóin?" Kíli asked.

"The large one with the darker-red hair? Very loud?" Gry asked, clarifying.

"That's Glóin." Fíli laughed.

"Right, him."

"He's a cousin, but we're in the direct line." Kíli informed.

"Oh. So who is all related to who?" Gry asked. She had the growing suspicion that this was all a family affair, and that fact more than the fact that she was the only human and the only female in the company, made her feel extremely out of place.

"Well, there's Thorin and us." Kíli started. "Then there's his cousins. Glóin and Óin are brothers. You know Glóin now, and Óin's the one who can't hear to well. And Dwalin and Balin are brothers. Dwalin's—"

"I met them at Mr. Baggins'." Gry cut him off without thinking. "Sorry, that was rude of me." She said giving a slight grimace at her actions.

"It's good you stopped him or he'd go on forever about _Mister Dwalin_." Fíli joked, saying Dwalin's name in a way that mimicked Kíli's usual excitement. Kíli scowled at him. "Anyway, there's Ori, who you also met, Nori, he initiated the betting, and Dori, the fussy one who looks more like a prince than Kíli what with all his braids." Fíli filled in. "They're all brothers."

"If I braided my hair like that, you'd call me a woman!" Kíli protested. Fíli ignored him.

"Then there's the Bombur, he's the rather _rotund _one," Gry remembered remarking earlier how she was surprised that a pony was able to bear his weight. "and Bofur—"

"The one who caused Bilbo to faint." Kíli added with great energy. He seemed to have recovered well from the earlier blow to his pride.

"And their cousin Bifur." Fíli glared at Kíli who either did not notice or simply did not care. "He has the uh—" he gestured to his head.

"Axe in his head." Kíli clarified. "Still makes the most fantastic toys though."

"Let's see, is that everyone?" Kíli asked, scanning through the group. Gry did a quick count of names.

"That's thirteen. Should be everyone." She nodded.

"Unless we pick up another vagrant such as you." Kíli joked.

"Vagrant?" Gry asked.

"Well let's see, you know about us, but what do we know of you, besides the fact that you used to listen to stories about Erebor just as we did, which really is quite strange, and that your father has departed from Middle-Earth." Gry looked down at the head of her pony and she could hear Fíli hit Kíli and hiss something. The two urged their ponies to come along either side of Gry's horse.

"Our father died too. In battle." Fíli said as if hoping to build some kind of bridge. "That's why Thorin stepped in to help our mother."

"My father died when I was 15, and both my parents were only children, so it's been just me and my mum for a while." Gry said. There was another awkward pause before she sucked in a breath and pulled herself together. "Anything else you want to know?"

"Are you not married?" Kíli asked. Fíli again sent a glare over to Kíli.

"No, but maybe for the next question you could ask something lighter. Say, what do you do for a living? Do you know any great songs? What is your favorite food?" Gry instructed.

"Ah, nothing can beat a good solid roast." Kíli answered the last question. Gry realized that all of his questions had been well intentioned, a way to get Gry to open up and feel at ease.

"Clearly you've never had a warm apple crisp then." Gry said with a smile.

"A warm apple what?" Kíli asked.

"It's a dessert. Delicious. They serve it at the Prancing Pony. The cook taught me how to make it, it's pure bliss." Gry said with a smile.

"You'll have to cook it for us then." Fíli said with a smile.

"Well I hardly have the proper equipment and ingredients here, but—"

"No, not here. In Erebor. I've heard the kitchens were fantastic. They were large and stocked with enough food for a thousand dwarves to feast." Fíli said, staring off ahead.

"In Erebor then." Gry said, nodding her head. She liked the sound of that.

**_– After Some Time – _**

It had been a long day of travelling, so when they finally stopped on top of some rocks and built a fire for dinner, Gry was thankful. Dinner was nothing like the spectacle at Bilbo's house. Everyone ate the portion that they'd been given of the food (skillfully cooked by Bombur) and went back politely for seconds until they had their full. Conversation was light and was just a small debate about whether or not these ponies were better than the ones that used to roam in the Blue Mountains. Gry did not care much for it, and, as with the previous night, found herself lulled to sleep by the low voices, curled up close to the fire, using her cloak as a blanket and her pack as a pillow. And, just as before, Gry woke up with a great gasp and her heart pounding, looking around her. It was dark, and the fire was significantly lower than it had been earlier in the evening. Looking around she heard the horrible sound again. It was a bloodcurdling shriek, far off in the distance, but loud enough to send a chill down her spine.

"What was that?" the polite tones of Bilbo came, and Gry wiped the sleep from her eyes, looking around. To her left, Gandalf sat close to where Bilbo stood next to a pony near the edge of their encampment. Gry turned to her right and found Kíli sitting very close to hjerher, no more than a foot away, whittling something by the edge of the fire as Fíli stared into the fire smoking his pipe. They must have been tasked with keeping watch.

"Orcs." Kíli said, more serious and alert than she'd seen him thus far.

"Orcs?" Bilbo asked prancing back towards the safety of the fire. Behind her Gry heard something jolt, and she whipped her head around to see Thorin wake up, looking around. Fíli's voice drew her attention back to the brothers.

"Throat cutters." He said calmly. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them." If Gry's heart had been pounding before, she was pretty sure that it was about to beat out of her chest.

"What?" she asked quietly, her voice coming out in nothing more than a squeak.

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep." Kíli informed, looking intently at her. "Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood." Gry was sure her face was glowing in the moonlight due to how pale it was. She didn't even look at Bilbo, she was too intently focused on Kíli.

"Shouldn't we be waking everyone then?" she whispered. His stern look broke as he looked to his brother and giggled. Gry's pale's face flushed with color as the blood ran to her cheeks.

"You—" she started, getting ready to give the pair a good what for.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin asked sharply from behind her. He stood up and passed in-between Gry and Bilbo. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Kíli's joy had drained from his face and he looked both incredibly embarrassed and ashamed of himself.

"No, you didn't." Thorin said walking over to where Bilbo stood. "You no nothing of the world." For all of his sharp words towards Gry, she was glad that she wasn't on the receiving end of that look and those words. He seemed so…_disappointed_. Kíli stared into the fire, having given up his whittling. Despite the embarrassment and terror he had caused her, Gry felt sorry for him and reached over, softly patting him on the foot as if that would console him in any way.

"Don't mind him, laddie." Balin said appearing from the shadows to lean on the overhang of rock that Kíli and Fíli were tucked away under. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs." Balin launched into one of the most beautiful and tragic stories that Gry had ever heard, and as he pieced together a picture of a homeless prince who lost both his grandfather and father and many of his kin on one day, Thorin began to make sense. Of course, she Gry didn't find that he intimidated her any less or that she liked his attitude any more, but he at least made sense now, and she began to hope that she could prove her worth to him. As the tale continued more and more dwarves began to wake up and driven by the story they stood to face Thorin. By the end of Balin's story, Gry felt herself rising to her feet as well. What loss he had experienced. It was more than she had ever heard tale of. There was a moment of silence as Thorin turned around to face his company, looking like a real person for the first time. He was not guarded in this moment, and in his eyes the daily burden he carried was all too apparent. Gry looked away, down to the ground.

"And the pale orc? What happened to him?" Bilbo asked.

"He slunk back into the whole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago." Thorin said walking back to where he had been sleeping. The dwarves watched him go before they too settled back down, drifting back to sleep or whispering to each other in pairs.

"I'll take over watch from here, lads." Balin said nodding to Fíli and Kíli. They didn't say anything for once but got out of the small over hang moving to where there was space. Gry moved closer to the fire, taking a spot where Kíli's feet had once been, Balin taking Fíli's seat. The camp settled into a quietness as the wee hours slowly passed by.

"So you've known him a while, then. Thorin, I mean." Gry said softly to Balin.

"Aye, that I have." Balin nodded. Gry turned back to the fire watching its flames dance up and settle back down.

"Too often do I forget that one's hardships do not eclipse someone else's," Gry said slowly, continuing to watch the fire. "and that everyone deals with the pain in different ways."

"Wise words from one so young."

"I have my moments." Gry said, twisting to face him, a small smile on her face. Balin smiled gently back at her.

"He deals with his pain best he can." He said, looking over to where Thorin lay. "We all do."

"He must get tired from the weight of it all." Gry said, joining Balin in looking at Thorin. His eyes were closed, but Gry had no idea whether or not he was actually asleep.

"I'm sure he does." Balin said, and they both turned back to the fire. "It hangs over him every day." They returned to silence, and though she was not sure when, at some point Gry fell asleep watching the fire, drifting off to dreams of apple crisp served to thirteen smiling dwarves, a wizard, and a hobbit in the halls of Erebor.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts: **_So that was kind of slow and a sort of depressing note to end on, but I just want to say that I've already written a lot of the next chapter, and it's my favorite one __**by far**__. I think you guys are really going to enjoy it. Let me know what y'all are thinking, though. I absolutely love reviews! _


	6. Boiling Over

**(Chapter 5) Boiling Over**

**Author's Note: **_So I had to split up this and the next chapter, since it was getting awfully long, but that just means more goodness (: But yeah. Not much to say other than thank you for reviews and follows and favorites. They really make my day and encourage me to run back to my computer and write!_

* * *

_**"Do not be angry with the rain; it simply does not know how to fall upwards."**_ {Vladimir Nabokov}

Gry liked to consider herself a pretty easygoing person. She didn't complain very much nor did she worry unnecessarily about the person. Sure when she was embarrassed she got a little snippy, and she dealt with frustrations about as well as the next person, maybe even better. She was chipper in the mornings, and when she got tired at night, she didn't turn into a grump, she merely got quieter, and some people actually preferred that. So, whether or not her assessment of herself was entirely accurate, Gry considered herself an easygoing person.

Except when it rained.

And when she was forced to travel outside on horseback in the pouring rain.

It had been no more than an hour since they had left camp in the morning before the downpour started, and it had continued for another three hours since. The party travelled in relative silence, nobody finding it worth attempting to talk over the rain, and all of them apparently rather sullen. There were a few times when bits of conversation picked up, but for the most part they died really quickly. Bilbo for his part was holding up rather well. He never complained nor made any fussy motions, and he didn't even have a cloak with a hood. He was much worse of than her, so she would not let herself complain nor rant, but she was sure that she had a rather surly look on her face as they rode on.

The sound of hoofs sloshing through the mud got louder as Kíli appeared next to her. "Lovely weather." He commented looking up at the sky. Gry shot him a look, but held her tongue. He gave a small smile before reaching over and offering her an apple. "Well, it's letting up a little at least. Bombur is handing out lunch from his pony. No one much feels like stopping in this weather. If we're going to get wet, might as well cover some ground." Gry took the apple.

"Thanks." She said quietly, and Kíli nodded. Silence once overtook the party, but not for long. "You know, my mother used to tell me tales of these parts." He said, gesturing with his head.

"Yeah?" Gry asked, staring ahead.

"She used to tell me and Fíli to stay away from here, and here uncle's leading us right into it." Kíli commented, off hand. "Anyway, I'm sure she was just telling us stories to keep us in line, but going through here in the rain, I have to wonder." He said seriously.

"What did she tell you?" Gry asked, her voice softening.

"She told us to beware the Trollshaws." Kíli said in a hushed voice. "There are creatures in these parts… dangerous creatures."

"What kinds?" Gry asked, her focus turned entirely on Kíli. These types of stories that mothers told their children were never unfounded. _At the heart of every tale is a grain of truth, Gry. _She remembered her father telling her. _No matter how outlandish it might seem._

"That's just it—no one knows. There are things in these woods that nobody's ever heard of. Things that aren't natural, that aren't right. People just come in here and disappear."

"Disappear? No trace?" Gry asked, her sticky and uncomfortable clothes completely forgotten.

"Well that depends on what gets them." Kíli said lowly, looking over his shoulder before leaning closer to her. "There are some that are lured off the path and they just vanish. Others leave trails of blood. Sometimes you find the people, but they aren't right. My mother told me of a man who was once found with his eyes sunken in and his skin shriveled. As if he'd aged a thousand years. They wouldn't of known him if it weren't for the chain he wore." Kíli shook his head. Gry could hear her heart pounding. "There's more to these forests than just trolls." _Trolls?_ Gry wanted to squeak, but as she began to think about it more, the bits of his story didn't make sense. They couldn't make sense.

"If these woods were so dangerous, why would Thorin lead us through here?" she tested.

"It's the quickest way to get to the Lonely Mountain." Kíli answered. "Besides, like I said, they're just stories. Nobody's been ever to prove them true, but on the other hand nobody's been able to prove them false either." Gry tightened her grip on her apple, almost instinctually, her fingernails piercing the skin. "I just know that it makes me nervous going through here in the rain, what with the sky so dark and all of the tracks being washed away." Gry shuttered, but tried to play it off as a shiver, taking a large bite out of her apple. Her horse skittered a little bit at the foreign sound. Apparently he didn't like the rain or the dark either. _Take smaller bites_. She made a mental note. "There's one creature, or at least there's tale of a creature, that prefers to stalk its prey in the rain. It follows you in the bushes until it decides to make its grab. The only warning it gives is the faint whistling, like wind rushing by your ear, when it lunges. That and the sight of it coming at you from the corner of your eye." He whispered. Gry's fingernails dug further into her apple.

_This is just a story._ She reminded herself. _The truth is a wolf probably got to someone once or a man walked out in his family and they made up a story to make sense of it rather than moving to the conclusion that he left them._ She took another bite of her apple. "But these are all just tales." She said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

"Of course." Kíli said, playing it off as something lighthearted.

"Kíli!" Fíli called over the rain and Kíli stopped his pony turning it to look back. Gry paused a second before continuing on. Just a story. Something told to pass the time. He probably noticed her foul mood and just wanted to get her mind off the rain. She shrugged, but pocketed the rest of the apple, her appetite gone. She tightened up on the reigns of her horse. She was in the company of Thorin Oakenshield. If there were ever a group of people that it would be moderately safe to traverse the Trollshaws with (dangerous creatures or no) it would be these dwarves. They were of the line of Durin. They were fighters and travellers. They knew the safest, quickest paths. There was no way Thorin would compromise the whole quest just for a shortcut. Right? And it was at that moment that she got her answer as a faint whistling sound whizzed by her ear. Despite herself she screamed and jumped, turning to look behind her, accidentally jerking on the reigns, as something hit her horse's face. In the next moment, Gry found herself screaming for different reasons as her horse reared back in the air. Gry completely shocked, lost her balance and as her horse came back down to the ground and started to bolt, Gry fell from his back. There was a moment of clarity as she fell from the horse that she should somehow try to aim for softer ground or roll over so that she didn't hurt anything, but she only managed to try to aim herself for the edge of the road before she found herself hitting the ground hard on her back, the wind completely knocked out of her. Desperately she tried to regain her breath lest she have to get up and fight off the creature from the woods as there were shouts from behind and in front of her. This was not good. This was not good _at all_. She heard Gandalf boom something, but she could not make sense of the words as she stared up at the rain, the drops hitting her in the face as if she wasn't in enough miserable circumstances.

"Gry!" Kíli had jumped off of his pony and was now at her side, peering into her face from above her. "Are you ok?" he looked absolutely panic-stricken. Gry wanted to assure him that she was alive and fine, but all she could do was focus on breathing and let out a small groan. "Can you sit?" he asked.

"I can try." Gry said, finally able to catch her breath. Slowly and painfully with support from Kíli, Gry managed to sit up and look around. Some of the dwarves had formed a bit of a semi-circle around her. Thorin was closer to Gry but still astride his pony. Fíli, like Kíli, had dismounted, but held the reigns of both his and his brother's ponies. Gandalf suddenly approached, coming up next to Thorin, handing off the reigns to Gry's horse to Dori.

"Are you injured?" he asked. He seemed more determined than fearful for her.

"I—I don't think so. Just bruised." Gry said, feeling fidgety.

"What happened?" Thorin demanded. No sympathy there.

"Her horse spooked, and she fell off screaming!" Bofur supplied. He had been riding a good ways behind her whereas Thorin had been in front. Neither of them had seen it then.

"What could have caused her horse to spook?" Gandalf asked, looking thoughtfully at the black creature who now looked positively calm.

"I heard it." She said, her face pale as she turned to Kíli. "I heard the whistling, and something hit my horse. He must have seen the creature too." Or it had been the fact that the creature caused her to scream, move, and jerk the horse suddenly, but whatever it was it boiled down to the fact that there was _something in these woods_. And her reaction (even her horse's fright) very well might have been the spectacle that saved all of their lives.

"What whistling?" Glóin asked.

"What creature?" Dwalin added his own creature.

"It was just like you said." Gry said, looking to Kíli, hoping that he would explain to them, help them remember the stories. "Just like in your mother's stories. It was just like the wind and I saw something. I _saw_ it." She insisted, panicked. Why wasn't anyone taking this seriously?

"What. Story." Thorin ground out the two words, his eyes boring into Kíli. Kíli looked ashen himself, both horrified and a little…embarrassed?

"It was just a story." Kíli muttered quietly. "I didn't think she'd take it so seriously." Gry recoiled. What? "If I had I wouldn't have thrown the rock to scare her. It was just a joke."

"You _what_?" Gry asked, shrilly. Her face contorted with anger as she shoved away his "helping hand." He looked hurt, but Gry did not care. Not after what he did. "You think that was a _joke_? That causing me to fall of my horse is _funny?_" _Not to mention that you let me prattle on like a complete idiot about some creature of the woods_. Gry ended hotly in her head.

"I didn't mean anything by it. You just looked so upset, and it was just a bit of fun to lighten you up." He pled.

"And if she had landed just an inch to the left and struck her head on that rock, what funwould she be having then?" Thorin asked darkly, clearly disappointed and angry with his nephew. Gry turned to see a large, sharp rock sitting on the ground. "And you," Thorin's attention turned to Gry as she looked up at the fuming king. "If you are frightened by mere stories of creatures and cannot learn how to stay on a spooked horse, what business do you have on this quest? I knew when you first asked that you would be nothing but a burden to us. Next time we will not be stopping this party. You can find your way back home on your own." He said, before turning his pony around from them and continued down the road. There were sympathetic looks from some of the dwarves as they too pulled away, leaving Gry on the ground next to Kíli with her eyes shining and her face read out of both embarrassment and anger.

"Gry, I'm sorry, I—"

"_Don't speak to me!_" Gry snapped, getting up and walking over to take the reigns of her horse from Dori. She sounded like a petulant child, but at this point she reallydidn't care. Kíli scrambled to his feet and took his reigns from Fíli, the two brothers quickly mounting. Kíli urged his pony up besides Gry's horse.

"I was just trying to make the journey a little easier, and I knew you loved a good story—"

"You used my love of stories to make me look like a fool!" Gry said hotly, grateful that the rain made it difficult to tell that she was crying. "And now I'm completely soaked and covered in mud, and all of the work I've done to prove to Thorin and everyone else that I do have a place on this quest has been undone because of your _stupid joke_!"

"I'm sure that they—"

"You can save your breath," Gry said, looking straight ahead. "and find your amusement elsewhere." She spurred her horse forward to ride up alongside of Bilbo, leaving Kíli behind.

– **A Little Later – **

If the time leading up to the fall had been miserable, the afternoon was worse. While the rain had lightened up so that it was no more than misting, a slight wind had started and the clouds still obscured the sun. So with teeth chattering, mud all over, and her clothes completely soaked, Gry had had a very bad afternoon. A very bad afternoon, indeed. Kíli had made a few more attempts to apologize as well as a couple of attempts to joke with her and pretend like nothing had happened. Throughout his efforts, Gry stared stonily ahead, ignoring him. However, for the past hour it appeared that he had given up, and Gry felt both relieved and angry that he had decided that she wasn't worth any more attempts. Typical bad-mood Gry.

"How are you doin', lass?" Gry bit her tongue to keep from making a sound as she looked at who had snuck up behind her. She was surprised to find hear a chuckle from in front of her as she realized that Dwalin had slowed his horse to ride back with her. Gry faced back to the front and looked at him.

"How do you think?" she asked, before biting her tongue again. _That's right, Gry. Snap at the guy who can break your neck. _She thought to herself. She needed to calm down. "Sorry." She sighed. "I've had better days." He nodded.

"I would hope so." There was a silence between the two as they rode on next to each other. Gry had not thought of Dwalin to be the type for small talk, and the way he hung back, she had thought he had something to say.

"I'm not one to mess in the affairs of others, because I often don't care," he started "but I must ask: are you planning on giving the lad the cold shoulder for the rest of the quest?"

"I—uh—well—I—" Gry stuttered. _Well said, Gry. Well said._

"Because if you're wanting my opinion, then I'd suggest you'd get over it and fast." He answered. Gry flushed.

"So you think his actions are admissible?"

"I'm not saying what he did was right." Dwalin said sternly, leveling her a look. "But I'm saying that you need learn to speak to him and fight alongside him. Look, the lad's just nervous. He's never seen a battle before, and he wants to prove himself."

"Interesting way to do it, making me fall off my horse." Gry muttered, moodily.

"Didn't say he's going about it in the right way. I'm sure Fíli'll set him straight about it, though. I'm just sayin' that you're gonna get scraped and bruised on this quest, but you can't react like this when you do. Can't let 'em see you sweat." Gry didn't bother asking who "em" was. "We all fell of our horse at one time. I accidentally sliced open my leg with an axe back in my early years." He admitted. "But we grit our teeth and bear it. And when a member of our company says sorry, we accept." Gry felt incredibly ashamed and guilty. Dwalin was right. She was completely over reacting. Gry thought back to Kíli's various apologies. _It was just a bit of fun to lighten you up. I was just trying to make the journey a little easier, and I knew you loved a good story_. He had been trying to make her feel better, but she had been too preoccupied with giving up this day as a waste and as awful that she hadn't even considered the fact that his actions came with good intentions.

"You're right." She said softly. "Do you think I've ruined my chances at becoming a real member of the company?" She turned her attention away from the horse, instead peering into Dwalin's face.

"As I said. We all fell off our horse at one point, and if we weren't a little stubborn ourselves, we couldn't call ourselves dwarves," he added with a wink. Gry had never expected him to be so kind. Not with his tattoos and knuckle-dusters and continuous scowl.

"Thank you." Gry looked back ahead. The two continued along for a little bit in comfortable silence, Gry feeling much better and much worse. _As soon as we stop, I'll apologize_. She determined. She just needed time to find the words first. _I wanted to accept your apology and give you one of my own. _No. First of all, it was too late to accept his apology. She had prolonged it to the point where she just needed to apologize. And the apology wasn't specific enough. _I apologize for overreacting. _That was far too wooden; the words were empty. _I'm sorry I was a complete ass about it when all you were trying to do was make me feel better. I realize that it was an accident, and I hope that you can forgive me, even though I couldn't forgive you._ That would do. Or at least, it was a good place to start. The sun had started to peek out from behind the clouds, with just enough time for it to set. The group came to a stop at a small clearing next to a house that looked like it was just barely standing.

"We'll camp here for the night." Thorin decided from atop his pony. "Fíli, Kíli, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them." He dismounted his horse and all the others began to do so as well. Gry's stomach twisted as she unsaddled her pony. She cast a look at Kíli, and her heart rate picked up. Swallowing, she turned back to her work. _Just say it. Just apologize. _"Óin, Glóin."

"Aye?" Glóin asked and Óin lifted his trumpet to his ears.

"Get a fire going." Thorin commanded.

"Right you are." Glóin nodded his head in agreement as they all began to make camp.

"I think it would be wiser to move on." Gandalf called. He had apparently been wandering through the old house. Gry looked up as he said this, but focused back on what she was doing as Thorin walked over to address Gandalf's concerns. Placing the packs on the ground, Gry took a breath before starting to walk over to Kíli. She paused attempting to think of some excuse for going over to him and pulling him aside until she realized that she did not need one. It was best to be honest, blunt. That's what the dwarves seemed to appreciate. Gry drew closer and Kíli looked up from what he was doing, and the two made eye contact. He paused, looking at her, and Gry could see how sorry he still was, sending a whole new wave of guilt through Gry. Kíli broke eye contact, turning away and hurrying in the other direction, away from Gry. Gry stopped in her tracks, her face fallen. _And this is why Thorin did not want a girl on the quest. Because as much as we like to think that we're not, our emotions are like kindling, and all it takes is the littlest spark to start a grand fire that burns everyone around us, and I must be the worst of them all._

"Gandalf, where are you going?" Gry turned around at Bilbo's question to find the large wizard stomping towards her and down the path, away from their camp for the night.

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense." Gandalf answered, fuming.

"Who's that?"

"Myself, Mr. Baggins!" Gandalf answered, already most of the way gone. It appeared that today was the day for overreactions and running away. Great.

**– That Night –**

Gry sat, quietly staring into the fire, her bowl of soup in hand but untouched. Around her the dwarves chatted rather lightheartedly which Gry found a bit odd considering the earlier incident of her almost being seriously injured and then kicked out of the company or the much more recent incident of Gandalf storming off. Bilbo seemed to be the only one concerned about it, but he'd been quickly dismissed and sent away with soup for Fíli and Kíli.

"Aren't going to sit like that all night, are ya?" Bofur asked sitting down next to her heavily with his soup. "Your mouth'll freeze shut, and then you won't be able to use that goldentongue of yours to talk your way in and out of everything."

"Goldentongue?" Gry asked, looking at him. "I thought the saying was silver."

"Who'd want silver over gold? You Men have got everything backwards." Bofur commented with a grin. Gry smiled half-heartedly.

"I doubt I'll be talking my way out of this one." She muttered, looking back to the fire. "He can't even stand to be near me."

"Thorin'll calm down. Just give him a little time. He warms up to everyone."

"Not Thorin." Gry corrected. "Kili"

"Kíli?" Bofur asked looking confused for a second before realizing what she meant. "Ah, he's just a lad, doesn't know how to talk to women. Hasn't been near many besides his mum. And even if he had, dwarven women aren't anything like your type of women. They're much more like us men. Rock hard, and stubborn as anything. Look like us too, beards and all." Gry let out a giggle, looking at the ridiculous dwarf.

"So you don't think he'll avoid me forever? He doesn't think I'll just explode?" she asked.

"I think you just need a dawn." He commented. "Something about a new day always seems to put people right again." She smiled.

"You're probably right." She took a spoonful of her soup. "You know, I wasn't aware until today that dwarves were such wise people." She froze, realizing how that must have sounded. "I mean, I just thought—" Bofur burst out laughing.

"You certainly know how to turn on and off the charm." He commented.

"I—" Gry started, but she didn't get to finish justifying herself, for at just that moment Kíli and Fíli came bursting into the camp.

"Bilbo needs our help!" Kíli called, coming into the middle of the circle. Thorin rose.

"What trouble has he gotten himself into?" he asked darkly.

"Well, it's not all his fault you see…" Fíli started, nervously.

"What has happened?" Thorin pushed. The brothers looked at each other before answering together.

"_Trolls_."

**Ending Thoughts: **_I realized the incident with Kili is a little contrived, but I appreciate you going with me on this. Anyway, next one should hopefully be up tomorrow, but let me know what you thought of this half!_


	7. All Over It

**(Chapter 6) All Over It**

**Author's Note: **_So, I posted last chapter and came back to find my inbox filled with notifications. I know I said this last chapter (and maybe the chapter before that) but all of the follows/favorites/reviews are absolutely amazing and I can't tell you how much it inspires me to keep writing. But, enough of that. Onto the good stuff!_

* * *

"_**'For your own good' is a persuasive argument that will eventually make a man agree to his own destruction**_." {Janet Frame}

"Miss Gry, you are to stay." Thorin demanded, strapping on his sword as the rest of the dwarves scrambled to equip themselves for battle with trolls.

"Stay here by myself? At night? Are you mad?" Gry sputtered.

"I do not have time to argue with you when I must go save our other encumbrance."

"_Encumbrance?_ If this is because of the horse—_" _But Gry didn't bother finishing. Thorin was already hurrying along the path Fíli and Kíli had come from, his nephews ran close after him.

"Come on now, he doesn't mean it badly." Bofur hit her shoulder reassuringly as he passed by her with the rest of the dwarves, leaving her alone by the fire with her arms folded tightly against her chest.

"Of course not." She exhaled angrily. How were they to know that she couldn't use a sword? It was the horse. It had to be. So she'd fallen off. Dwalin said that all of them had—metaphorically—fallen off the horse at one point or another. This was unfair. Gry bent back down to where she had been sitting and picked up the bowl that she had set down in preparation to grab her sword and leave. She angrily shoved a spoonful in her mouth, but just as quickly and vehemently as she put the broth in, she immediately spat it back out as it burned her tongue. Gry let out an angry curse before forcefully setting the bowl down on the ground and pacing back and forth beside it.

"I came to help, and Bilbo needs help, so I should be there helping instead of here, left to watch a camp that has absolutely nothing in it. No ponies. No weapons. I'm sure they don't part with their gold." Gry ranted, ticking off each item on her fingers. "Do they expect me to just sit here and keep the fire going so the soup's warm and waiting for them when they come back? Because if they do…oh, if they do—" she walked over to pot and reached for it. She was seconds away from tipping its contents onto the fire, before managed to stop herself. Her temper had already burned one bridge, and who knew what this action could do. Besides, the pot was probably hot like the soup. Did she want to burn all the bridges, her tongue, and her hands? No. No, she didn't.

Defeated, Gry sat down where she had been, picking up her bowl again and just, stirring the contents. She was acting like a little girl who was willing to do anything to prove herself without actually thinking things through. Angrily throwing the soup around as retribution would do no good. Especially since in her argument as to why she should come the things she mentioned first were all of the more "womanly assets." Maybe somewhere in his head Thorin thought that she _wanted _to be left behind and was just trying to play brave, and if he did, was he right? Gry sat, staring at her soup, and thinking about it. No, he wasn't. Gry had just said whatever she needed to say to get herself onto this quest. She wanted—no, _needed_ to be out there helping them. But she also had to prove that she could follow orders and was worth keeping. "20 minutes." Gry resolved aloud to herself. "If they're not back in 20 minutes, I'm going after them."

20 minutes passed.

And then 5 more.

There was no sign of them.

Gry grabbed her sword and threw her cloak on. Something had happened. Something bad. They should have been back by now. Gry sprinted down the path, not even thinking about the fact that she had no idea where she was going. As it turned out it didn't matter. The snapped trees and otherwise trampled path made it all too obvious where the trolls and company of dwarves had hurried off to. She could smell it as she got closer too. Smoke filled the air, a fire. Gry's stomach churned as the fire came into view. She dropped into a nearby bush, parting the branches to stare at the scene before her. Three mountainous creatures stood over a turning spit, tied to which were at least a half dozen of the dwarves. Her eyes frantically searched around for the rest and she exhaled as she saw a pile of them in burlap bags. So, nobody had been eaten. Yet.

Gry watched as the trolls placed more logs onto the fire. She had to do _something_. If she let them all die, Thorin would be right about her. She would be useless. _What do you know about trolls? You've heard stories of encounters with them before. Just remember!_ Gry thought to herself as she stared at her friends slowly roasting over the fire. Her mind drifted back to sitting in a corner of the Prancing Pony, listening to the man with the greying-beard and the wildly curly auburn hair, streaked with grey.

_"The thing about trolls is they're slow. Ain't no two ways about it. They're so big it takes them a while to move anywhere, and they ain't too quick in the mind either. Half-wits at best. They weren't no match for someone quick as me. Got one down and had the other chase me around 'til dawn."_

_"What happened at dawn?" Gry asked._

_"Well they turn to stone, of course!" the man laughed, taking a swig of his ale. "That's why they're called stone trolls." _

Gry highly doubted that she could outrun three trolls until the sun came up, but if they were as stupid as the traveller had claimed, she might have a chance at tricking them into letting her companions go or at least keep them talking until dawn. A small idea popped into her head. It was dangerous, but there wasn't much of a hope left for the dwarves or Bilbo. Not unless Gandalf managed to come back in time, and the odds weren't looking too good for that. Gry eyed the rock ledge nearby the trolls, and she quickly worked her way through the woods and over to it, pulling the hood of her cloak up over her head and drawing it around her so that not much of her body was revealed. Gry crept up the rocks before standing still, her hands on the inside of her cloak, keeping it together as the hood covered her face.

"Let the dwarves go." Gry said loudly, but calmly. She breathed in slowly, attempting to calm her racing heart that pounded hard, trying to escape her chest.

"Who's that?" One of the trolls boomed, turning to look at her. The other two turned to look around as well.

"No idea." The troll just as big as the first commented.

"Can we eat it?" The skinnier troll asked. The first troll who spoke moved away from the spit, pulling a large knife out from behind his back and moving towards her.

"That would not be wise." Gry said with all of the authority she could muster, holding out a stiff hand to stop him. Whether or not they comprehended her words, the stop sign was enough to give the trolls pause.

"Why not?" The troll who had been advancing on her asked.

"I am not as I appear." Gry answered, tucking her arm back inside the cloak.

"Not as she appears? What's that mean?" The other large troll asked, standing up from where he had previously been bent over by the fire.

"Explain yourself!" The first, the leader, demanded. From behind him, the dwarves on the spit called out things as they rotated, asking the others what was going on. She heard some mumbling and yelping, but she had to focus on the task at hand. She couldn't let her nerves or desperation get the better of her. _Can't let 'em see you sweat_. Dwalin's voice rung through her head. Now she knew what he meant.

"I am not a Man." She said drawing out her words as if each one were a gift that she was gracing the trolls with. "I am a Solfolk, and I am the guardian of these dwarves. And the Halfling." She added, just as evenly and calmly.

"You're lying." The leader said getting closer to her. "She smells like a human…"

"But she doesn't talk like a human." The skinny, high-voiced troll thought.

"Shut up, you." The other troll said, turning and hitting him on the side of the head. Before they could decide that she really was lying, and they really did want to eat her, Gry spoke.

"I adopt the form, the body, of one passed. As you know not what I am, I will tell you. We Solfolk are of the sun. We are made of daylight. We are brighter than the brightest corner of your worst fears. Destroy this form, and my true form will be released. I will burn brighter than the sun and you," she paused for emphasis, "will perish." There was a pause after this speech as the trolls stood, dumbfounded and the dwarves lay quiet. Should she survive, this would certainly be a great legend to pass on to her children.

"Tie her up, and put her in a sack. We'll decide if she's for eating tomorrow. The dwarves are getting colder." The leader decided. Gry cursed in her head, but did her best to remain calm, another idea coming to mind.

"For your own good, I would not." Gry warned, reaching into her cloak and drawing out her sword before turning it on herself. "Should you lay a finger on me or any of those under my protection, I will release the light myself. I warn you, I am not very much attached to this form."

"Gry, no!" Kíli called out, and many of the dwarves shouted their protests.

"Silence." Gry called, her voice so loud and strong it surprised even herself. The protests faded away as the dwarves obeyed. "Once the blade enters, you must shut your eyes lest you be blinded. Do you understand?" There was a pause and then a chorus of:

"Yes, we understand! Yes, the light is so bright! We'll shut our eyes. We promise!" They were overselling it, but it was better than no help at all.

"Good." Gry said, moving on. So, trolls," she turned her attention to them. "Tell me, are you willing to risk it? Does your desperate hope that what I say is not to be believed prevail?"

"Bill, perhaps we'd better not!" the squeaky troll warned.

"If you're so dangerous, this being of sunlight. How come we'd never heard of you." The second large troll asked.

"Not many of your kind live to tell the tale of mine." Gry answered simply. "Now make your decision. Leave these dwarves alone, or breathe your last." Gry bit her tongue as she finished the statement, hoping beyond hope that this would be enough, that she had convinced them.

"Let's let them go!" the skinny troll, pled with the other two. "I don't much fancy being turned to stone!"

"But what if we were to swallow her whole?" the leader asked, turning on her. Gry had not thought of that. She fumbled around for an excuse.

"One more step, and I'll take my life." Her voice faltered a bit. The troll looked as if he was about to move, and for a brief second Gry considered killing herself, before she realized that upon her death, absolutely nothing would happen. Suddenly there was a rustle next to her as a form appeared. Gry jumped back, turning her sword on the stranger, her hood flying back to rest on her shoulders.

"The dawn will take you all!" a familiar voice boomed, putting her own shouting skills to shame. It took her a second to realize that Gandalf stood beside her, driving his staff into the rock, causing half of it to fall down and reveal the dawn sun. The trolls screamed as they twisted and turned, slowly turning into stone. The dwarves laughed and cheered, and Gry stashed her sword, smiling. Gandalf moved to the side of the rock, sliding down before moving over to release the dwarves from over the spit. Gry followed, instead moving over to the dwarves who were tied up in a pile of burlap sacks.

"Excellent job, Miss Gry." Gandalf called over smiling.

"Yes, excellent indeed." Thorin commented. "You almost got yourself eaten. Then what good would you have done us?"

"About the same good as I would have done had I stayed back in the camp like you ordered," Gry responded, loosening his sack so that he could move. "Besides, the important part is that I didn't." Gry added, giving him a little bit to think about as she moved on to loosen Kíli's sack. The two made eye contact, and smiled a bit before moving on to Bombur who lay on top of Kíli, making it difficult for the dwarf to move. Soon, they were all loosened and the dwarves and Bilbo were able to wriggle out of their sacks. Gry turned around to see if Gandalf needed any help with those who had been tied to the spit and found herself slightly embarrassed as she noticed that the dwarves had been tripped of their outer garments before they were tied to the pole.

"What'd I tell you, lads! I knew she'd come!", slightly embarrassed as she realized that most of the dwarves had been stripped of their outer garments before they were tied and placed in sacks.

"Did I not tell you, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf boomed from where he stood with the other dwarves. "That Miss Gry's charm and persuasion would prove to be most helpful?" Thorin nodded.

"Indeed," he said as he passed by Gry on his way to speak with the wizard. The way he said it made it seem as if he actually _agreed_ with Gandalf. Apparently you were able to speak some sense into the old Dwarf king.

"What'd I tell ya?" Bofur asked, coming over fully dressed. "You've got a goldentongue."

"And that sometimes everyone can use a dawn." Gry added. "I bet you didn't know that'd save your life today." She smiled, hinting at the inspiration for her story.

"Are you _really _a Solfolk?" Ori asked approaching them. He walked on unstable legs having been turned over a spit for who knows how long.

"Solfolk? There's no such thing." Gry laughed. "It's just a story, and apparently a rather good one." The dwarves milled around, Óin and Gry walking around and making sure that they each of them were all right. Thankfully the only injuries were some cuts and bruises; nothing too major. A few, Kíli and Fíli included, went off to corral the ponies, and as soon as they got back Thorin informed them that they would be going back to the camp to gather the rest of their supplies before searching out the cave. It didn't take long to pack up or saddle the ponies, and considering the fact that the previous day had been a wreck, nobody had slept, and Fíli, Kíli and Bilbo had almost gotten them all eaten, everyone was in a good mood and joking by the time they found the cave.

"Ori, you stay out here and watch the ponies with Dori. Glóin, Bofur, Nori, Dwalin, Gandalf, and I will go into the cave. The rest of you are to keep watch down here, we'll call you if needed." Thorin instructed.

"Perhaps Miss Gry and Mr. Baggins should accompany us down." Thorin did not argue or question Gandalf's reasoning. He merely raised an eyebrow at the wizard, and then nodded his consent.

"Very well." He said, before heading down into cave. Gry walked in behind the others and was immediately hit with the overwhelming stench of decay and body odor. The company coughed as they began to descend further into the cave.

"What is that stench?" Bofur asked between coughs. Bilbo turned back to wait at the mouth.

"It's a troll-hoard. What did you expect?" Gandalf asked. Gry felt sick to her stomach and turned, placing a hand on the wall and bending over coughing.

"Are you alright?" A hand was on her back. Gry looked up to find Kíli there, looking concerned. "Perhaps you'd do better coming out to keep watch with us." Gry nodded and followed him back out. There was something she needed to do anyway.

"Wait a second." She said pulling him to the side of the mouth of the cave. "I'm sorry." They chorused at the same time. Gry smiled a little and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Me first, you've said enough apologies already." Gry swallowed. "I've been thinking of the best way to apologize since yesterday, but I've yet to come up with anything good. So, I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for being a stubborn ass and I'm _really _glad that you weren't eaten." He laughed.

"As am I." The laughter died, but a grin remained. "I'm also glad that you did not kill yourself. It would have been a shame."

"Yes," Gry laughed this time, nodding "It would have been."

* * *

**Ending Thoughts: **_Y__ay for reconciliation! I've read a lot of Hobbit fics and as tempting as it was to have Gry get caught in the thick of the mess, I wanted to do the troll scene a little differently. What did you think of it? Anyway, it may be a few days before I get the next chapter up, but hopefully it will be up soon!_


End file.
